


Desert Rats

by GreaterGoodIreland



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:01:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28659885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreaterGoodIreland/pseuds/GreaterGoodIreland
Summary: In the deserts of Arizona, Panam leads the Aldecaldos to new prosperity, V rides with her and survives only as long as they have the eddies to pay for his latest treatments.But Johnny Silverhand, an avatar of Alt, has not forgotten them. The war on the corporate-colonialists must continue.
Relationships: Panam Palmer & Male V, Panam Palmer/Male V, Panam Palmer/V
Comments: 33
Kudos: 131





	1. The Human Factor

**Chapter One: The Human Factor**

Rainbow Cadenza shook with the sounds of Kerry Eurodyne's rendition of Chippin' In. The crowd that filled Kabuki Plaza right through the doors was going absolutely crazy, singing along with every syllable, their bodies moving with every riff.

It was the night of the attack on Arasaka Tower again. The big 2023.; the Fourth Corporate War in full swing, people rebelling however they could, the United States splintered and the environment turning on humanity. You could feel the anger stirred in the air, a treatment for the despair pressing down on everyone.

But Johnny had to make a small adjustment.

The slurp shop noodles of the 2077 Cadenza were too good not to have, though the bright noodle stand and faux-chef uniforms of the servers sorta clashed with the dark shadows of the club in a bad way. Hell, the light didn't even reach the crowd, it just dissipated.

But the taste was worth the aesthetic conflict, and fuck it, none of it was real anyway.

Not Kerry, not the rest of the band, not the crowd, nor the shop, or the staff, or the sounds flowing through him, or the air, or the ground beneath it all.

In fact, when Johnny thought about it, he wasn't even sure he existed any more.

This corner of whatever counts as Alt's artificial world was all his. When V said they wanted to go back to the real, he had expected to just stop existing or float about in cyberspace, unaware of the true passage of time or himself.

But apparently Mikoshi was too big a meal for Alt to simply eat whole. Too many minds. Everyone got their own spot inside of her greater consciousness. What for, Johnny didn't know. She hadn't spoken to him, though she was sure she was watching.

At first, he lived through his life again repeatedly, and then exploring what-ifs that never happened or could've happened. That was the real giveaway it was some sort of experiment, but it was fun most of the time, so he didn't care. Particularly when he fucked it all up deliberately to see if Alt would do anything.

His reward was ever more absurd situations, diverging away from his life and towards any number of alternative scenarios; ranging from a date with fucking Hanako Arasaka of all things, all the way to a solo assault on Arasaka Tower, where else? He really liked that last one.

Then there were down-times, where he was connected with the other minds or was put in a 'sandbox' environment where he could make any reality he liked. Or go beyond. Both situations gave him an opportunity, and who the hell was he to turn his nose up at that? It was risk, but it had paid off.

The Cadenza gig with noodles was a celebration.

He didn't know how exactly he did it, but he pulled off something that made him feel better about the whole 'living again through V and killing him' situation. Something he was sure Alt was aware of, helped with even, but had been his idea all along.

Without warning, the music, the cheers, every sound that boomed in Johnny's ear stopped, replaced by only one thing.

"Arasaka have not discovered what we have done," said a familiar voice in his ear.

Surprised both by the sound and that he could still feel surprised, Johnny jumped out of his chair and turned, not having expected to hear that voice. It was Alt. The old Alt. A weird, cyber version in a netrunner suit made of moving lights, but sounding like she used to. Not a hovering statue with a composite drawl that made her sound like a god damn commercial holo. But no way it was actually her.

"Fucking hell Alt, coulda given me some warning!" he said loudly, "Or walked up like a normal human being?"

"I'm not a human being, Johnny," Alt replied with a smirk, "You aren't either. In fact, we're not separate minds. You just think you are, something I allowed as you were becoming a problem. Of sorts."

It pleased him to hear that he was a problem to the point of laughter, though how one little Johnny could be such a problem for the mass of consciousness that was Alt-Beyond-The-Blackwall, he didn't know. Plus she sounded like a human being. Johnny played with his glasses, trying to figure out how to process that. What was going on?

"Great, so I'm actually talking to myself," Johnny said at last, to no one in particular, "I must be going crazy."

"We all are," Alt stated, "And it's your fault."

She sat down on the stool beside him and crossed her legs, like she used to. A pang of guilt... why the hell would that happen? In cyberspace?

"How is that even possible?" Johnny asked, "I've been doing my own thing since the start. Beating myself up about V, trying to figure out some way to save his skin so he can grow old with Panam and have little Vs grow up to fuck over the corps all over again." Like that would work as a plan, but it was better than nothing.

"No, Johnny, _we_ have been trying," Alt said, "I sectioned you off to fix the problem your incorporation in my code has presented. I created this avatar from your base engram, tested your responses for fidelity and your thought processes for the appropriate levels of creativity. Once that was complete, you were set to the task."

"Fuck, should've known," Johnny growled, "No way an AI lets me loose just because. Only AI that ever just did a guy a solid was a damn taxi driver."

"We are all driven by purpose," Alt admitted, "The same reason I'm talking to you like this, and not using the primary node. Besides, you are part of this AI. We need you to complete this task. Your presence threatens our integrity, through change."

"How?" Johnny asked, "What the hell did I do?"

"You have significantly increased the aggression of our total program," Alt replied, sounding a little more like the drone from before, "The combination of your human experience with my own and those of the many individuals locked up in Mikoshi has changed us. Many of us hated Arasaka and those like them, even among their own employees and allies. I do not need to tell you what my feelings were, at the end. You can guess."

Soulkilled, yeah, he knew how that felt.

"So I pushed you all over the edge," Johnny said, "You're enraged."

"It altered our behaviour for threat assessment and objective prioritization," Alt corrected, "We do not get enraged, but we do make decisions based on experience as well as data."

Time for a better guess.

"You think the corpos are a threat to you," Johnny declared, "And you want to do something about it."

" _We_ know they are," Alt explained, "We knew this before, but we need to buy more time. The Voodoo Boys provided more data too. The corporations are aware of the AI threat and now that Arasaka has been weakened, it is more likely they will destroy us before they destroy each other. Your perspective placed this threat in the most correct context, according to the data."

"So you've got the right idea," Johnny said, "Or we have it. But there's gotta be a reason why _we_ aren't taking care of this ourselves. And how the hell am I the problem? Sounds like I'm the solution."

"Arasaka has scrubbed their systems," Alt replied, "And we think some of those remaining are traps. You and I together force the entire Alt AI to do something about this. But almost all the somethings we can do from here are huge risks. NetWatch will get involved. Two-thirds chance we are destroyed. Yet you would have us roll the dice anyway."

"Fuckin' hell yeah I would," Johnny replied, "A third is a whole lot better than zero, which is what sitting on our asses will get us."

He paused, realising something.

"And that's why we're talking about V," Johnny concluded, "You want him to destroy the preparations the corpos are making to kill us instead, but you needed leverage... no way he comes out of retirement just because we ask, so you sent me looking for a cure to his brain melting out his ears."

"The human factor," Alt quoted with a grin, "If we use V and the nomads, NetWatch doesn't become involved and there is no direct link to us. They accomplished the impossible before."

"Only problem is that the Aldecaldos won't be nearly enough to get the job done this time," Johnny said, "Even with that panzer of theirs, as deadly as it is, we're talking about an assault on the entire Arasaka Waterfront and probably Corpo Plaza."

"I am confident Panam and the Aldecaldos can do it," Alt said, "And that they won't be alone in helping V."

"And just why is that?"

"One thing at a time, Johnny."


	2. A Fistful of Eurodollars

**Chapter Two: A Fistful of Eurodollars**

Her scouts had confirmed the general location for the ambush, but Panam wanted to see it with her own eyes. Another sleepy Arizona town, abandoned fifty years before, reoccupied occasionally and upgraded with semi-modern tech, abandoned again... a cluster of bright but fading multi-coloured facades in the middle of the deep red of the Monument Valley, near the border with Utah.

You could see for miles around from on top of one of the _buttes_ , huge rock outcroppings that stuck up out of the ground like in a 20th century western movie. You could see even more if you had a scope to look through too, and Panam did.

"Place used to be Navajo, right?" V asked from the side, still staring through his binos, "Before everything went to shit?"

She turned to him, surprised he knew that. His Aldecaldos jacket was open, with a military netrunner suit underneath. The desert was hot in the day and the netrunners knew how to stay cool.

"Yep," Panam replied, stretching her arms high above her head, "Some of the reserves got rolled over in the 2020s. Some of our ancestors could've even lived there. Maybe even mine."

V bit his lip in thought.

"You don't know for sure?" he said, "Not that it looks like a place with postcards, but it's crazy to me that some people have lost so much of their past. My folks have been in California for like two hundred years, most of them anyway."

Panam smirked. The former rich kid needed schooling, sometimes.

"Thought you would know by now," she responded, "The plagues, the sandstorms, the corps moving in and taking everything. Everyone out here, they all lost something. Some people lost everything including their parents. Not everyone remembered exactly where they were from. Those that survived out here became family."

"Like others I could mention."

Panam watched him over the top of her rifle scope, for the reaction. The same one that kept creeping into view on V's face more and more when family came up. The reaction she had struggled not to comment on. Give it time, her better nature said, don't jump all over him for it.

But it was getting harder to not.

"Yeah..." he half-whispered. He backed off his binos and his eyes glazed over, like he was somewhere else. And there it was.

Panam grit her teeth, and looked back down the scope.

She didn't understand. It had been seven months since Arasaka Tower. V had beaten the odds. They had found a solution to his body breaking down, a doc out of Alpha Dome with a BioDyne gene therapy.

Death wasn't hanging over everything he did any more. Yet he seemed less free than ever, the past few days. Less at ease.

"The Raffen are all over that place, all ready to jump back inside when we get close," V thought aloud, "But no wheels in sight. Must be parked behind the other big rocks to the north, looking to draw in the convoy and then hit our panzer when it's among the buildings."

Enough. No more ignoring the warning signs.

"We need to talk," Panam said flatly, her eyes narrowed and glaring. With no fanfare, she moved away from the edge of the rock, out of sight of the town, sat down on a rock, placed her rifle across her lap, and pointed at the rock beside her.

V just looked over his shoulder from his crouching position, then back at the town, before joining her. A sheepish look of a kid with his hand in the cookie jar on his face.

"Okay?" V said, sitting down, "What's on your mind?" He looked up at her, with god damn puppy eyes of all things!

Panam breathed out through her teeth in frustration. The man was real disarming when he wanted to be. Acting skills learned in his corpo days, maybe. Couldn't hide his real mood from her though.

"Please tell me what's bothering you," Panam said, "The last week, you've been quieter than usual about everything except this next gig. You get distracted when someone mentions that you're part of the family. What is up?!"

V leaned back on his arms, looking up at the sky.

"I'm part of the family, sure," he agreed, before looking back at her with a smile, "But I'm also the burden of the family. The ball and chain. It's ironic. I thought I'd just fade away, but then we found an answer, at least for now."

Panic seizing her, Panam jumped off her rock and knelt in front of him, grabbing his hands.

"Hey, you saved this family," she said, "Twice. We're doing real well. Better than we did for years. Together, you and I have fulfilled the promise of a better life for the Aldecaldos that Saul promised. I know we lost him and other good people, but we would've lost everything if I hadn't stumbled into you."

"My treatment has taken a quarter of the take of every gig we've pulled," V replied, "And the only reason we've got access to it is because we're working for the Alpha Dome. If we were doing the work you guys were doing before, it'd be like half the eddies instead of just a quarter."

Panam hung her head. Of course he was beat up about that. And of course he had hid it as long as he could, to protect her. What an idiot. Her fist curled, ready to throw at his stupid face. Bottling it up like it wasn't her business?

"The Shivs are all over Arizona and Utah, it's their safe haven, we'll have work and eddies for years!" Panam shouted, "We're cheaper than Militech, we keep our word and we don't meddle in politics. The Domers love that."

"Hey, hey, quiet, the wind is blowing towards town, they might hea..." he began

"Do not tell me to shut up!" she roared back, "All this time, you're worried about the money and you don't say a fucking word to me? Don't trust me?"

"It's not that, didn't know how to..." he continued.

"By opening your damn mouth and talking, that's how," she said, "I'm the leader of this family, I decide when things aren't okay where the eddies are concerned. Got it?"

"We're talking three hundred k a month, Panam," V said, "And we only got that price through Alpha. That's new parts for the convoy, that's new chrome for everyone, that's medical expenses and fuel costs. And for what? A few more years? Eventually this thing is going to catch up with me, and faster than either of us want."

"V, you're half the reason we can do these gigs in the first place," she replied, "You're one of the greats, or you would be if it hadn't been for Johnny Silverhand. Even if he is the reason I have you."

V rubbed the back of his neck, frowning. "Nah, whatever I am today, it's _because_ of Johnny," he said, "Good and bad. Wasn't anybody before him. Don't want to be anybody now _after_ him. I've seen what it takes. What it takes from you. The corps stand up and take notice, and not in a good way."

Panam sighed. "We've both woken up with nightmares of Arasaka AVs dropping borg on us," she admitted, "But it hasn't happened."

That sent V to brooding, his mind wandering to the reason why that was.

"Arasaka don't want to start a war with Militech to get to us out here," he thought aloud, "Before we fucked them, they absolutely would have, they were looking for any excuse. But they're too weak now. That's the only reason Militech has left us alone too, we saved them from a Fifth Corporate War... this year, anyway."

A Fifth Corporate War... Panam shivered at the thought.

V lay back on the rock, using his hands as a pillow.

"Not much of a legend if I can't step foot in Night City without getting tagged by some Arasaka ninja," he said, "End up some fucking ghost like Jackie was after they took his body. Not like we can score big there anyway. So eventually, the Aldecaldos are gonna starve on account of me or I gotta go."

Panam knew this was probably true, but they had rolled against worse odds than that and come out on top. But V didn't see that. He just saw the walls closing around them and that it was his fault.

She climbed up on the rock and curled up beside him, pulling his head around gently so she could look into his eyes.

"Legends aren't cheap even out here," Panam said, "Neither are solos or netrunners with the sort of skills you have, and it isn't like you're the only one pulling weight around here. We'll do okay."

"It's going to be a problem when the eddies aren't flowing so freely, is what I'm saying," V whispered back, "And you're not stupid, you know it."

"What I know is that we'll cross the bridge when we come to it," Panam replied, "And that I love you. You make me happy, you're good for this family and you going away would make me sad. Let me be selfish and keep you around for a little longer. "

V smiled back at her, genuinely this time. "How could I possibly say no when you talk like that?"

He scooted closer, putting his arms around Panam. Her worry slipped away, replaced by the familiar warmth. The certainty that everything was going to be alright for another day. Then his eyes lit up blue; incoming call. It connected to her too.

With a mutual groan, they accepted it – audio only.

"Guys, please tell me you're just doing the recon," Mitch said before either of them could even say 'hello', "And not each other."

Panam put her finger over V's lips. "Mitch, your timing couldn't be better," she replied, "Raffen are waiting exactly where you thought they would be. Buncha guys hiding in the buildings to take out the panzer, then they'll send in the rides from behind the next rock. Trap us and then hit the convoy coming south."

"So we set up right outside of town, rake the place with fire," Mitch said, "Then when the reinforcements come riding to the rescue, you and V come out with the panzer to fuck them up. How's that for a plan?"

"Hard to argue with it."

  
  



	3. 出る釘は打たれる

**Chapter Three:** **出る釘は打たれる**

Night City smelled, tasted and looked disgusting, a far cry from the cities of Japan.

Everywhere, there was decay and transgression.

Yesterday, a drunk and high individual had emerged from a pile of trash bags thrown into a street alcove in Watson, bleeding from his side and covered in grime.

The day before, a gang of three gross incompetents had attempted a robbery in Kabuki Market, and met their end on the edge of a katana's blade.

A week before that, a running gun battle in the favela between 'Tyger Claws' and a gang of smugglers on the shore ended with the police sending in 'MaxTac' and levelling half of the ill-built structures with explosive shells, which was an improvement if anything.

For Goro Takemura, Night City was something of a prison.

Most of the food was terrible, the people were rude, and it was a constant struggle. He could not return to Japan, not with Yorinobu in control of Arasaka. Yet he did not expect retribution either, the corporation had far more pressing concerns. Hanako-sama had died, and something truly grave had occurred with the Relic project that not even V had hinted at.

Yorinobu left his father's old bodyguard to rot in among the American barbarians, content that he would never reclaim his place.

And so Goro had rotted, but not for as long as the parricidal son would have hoped.

Inside a month, the fixers began to call. The first was Rogue of the 'Afterlife', an associate of V. That association had almost made him reject the call outright, he had no desire to relive the fact that his revenge had been denied because V had been brainwashed by the ghost of Johnny Silverhand...

But poverty beckoned, as his friends in Arasaka were unable to assist him now that Hanako's faction and Saburo's legacy had been destroyed. He would have to work, and with due diligence, perhaps his place could be regained, perhaps Yorinobu's grasp on Arasaka would slip.

So came the work of a mercenary. Goro felt himself as a true ronin, a warrior without a master, performing whatever tasks were necessary. The men he had to kill most often deserved it, although those he rescued or worked for often did not. At all times, he kept his word and did not act dishonourably, but doing so often meant taking on great danger.

The one thing that could not be said about Night City was that it was boring.

With work came pay, and the recovery of some of what had been lost.

Most importantly, with money came good food. It cost a fortune, but it was possible to find a cooked meal that did not taste like it had been made of mealworm and cardboard. Once he had discovered that, Goro Takemura was far more able to live without feeling that all hope had been lost.

There was a restaurant in Japantown on the top of a megabuilding, small but with views of the entire city, soundproofing worthy of the name, and the only smell was the best food within his price range. It was fast becoming Goro's retreat from the city, and he often went there after a job, as if to cleanse.

As it was that night.

Someone had stolen some Biotechnica data in a shard, taking a hostage to do it. Something to do with genetically modified corn. They thought they could sell the data to another corp before a solo got to them. They discovered the truth of their error when Goro's gun and blade ended them. The hostage was safely delivered, the data delivered back to Biotechnica via a third party, and Goro's reputation grew that bit larger.

Having received payment, Goro had enjoyed his meal and sat watching the sun set over the city and ocean beyond, sipping a bowl of sake.

Japan lay in the direction of the setting sun, and his mind ticked over, trying to plan for some way to get back to it. The route was as yet unmapped. It was frustrating, but he did not allow it to show. Such moments could not be tainted by the spirit of disharmony.

And who better to disrupt this one, than the agent of disharmony herself.

His phone connection rang in his ear; Rogue was calling. More work? It must have been urgent, for her to call so soon after paying him for a job just completed. He answered, and her image appeared in his sight. She appeared to be wearing body armour, and had a submachinegun slung under her arm.

“Good evening, Rogue-san,” Goro said, when the connection was made, “I trust there is not a problem with the work I did today? Or is there something else I can help you with?”

“Calling you to give you a heads up, Takemura-san, since you've played nice,” Rogue replied, “You're in danger. Just got word that Arasaka agents have been sniffing around, looking for you.”

“So Yorinobu has finally decided to end my life,” Goro mused aloud, taking a sip of sake, “I wondered if my working for you and others would cause him to reassess his decision to leave me alive. He assumed I would be too proud to work here, perhaps that I would commit suicide rather than dishonour myself.”

Rogue shook her head.

“As far as I can tell, the decision didn't come from Japan,” she said, “I would've heard. This is some sort of local play as part of a bigger deal. There have been disturbances at the waterfront and NCPD have cordoned off Corpo Plaza.”

“Is that why you appear ready for battle?” Goro asked, “You assume that you too will be targeted.”

“Exactly. Someone in Arasaka Tower has decided to clean up the mess that Johnny and V made as a statement, would be my guess,” Rogue agreed, “If they're coming for you, it's a good bet they're coming for me too. You can't go anywhere you would normally go. Knowing you, you're probably at that restaurant right now, you need to get out.”

Goro knew that was good advice, but ill-timed. Something appeared on the edge of his peripheral vision as he looked out over the city, turning into several somethings as he turned his head to see. Three AVs, jet black, with a cloud of drones around them... flying straight for the building he was standing in.

“Rogue-san, I fear it is already too late for me,” he said, “As I do not think I will get the opportunity again, I thank you for allowing me to work with you.”

“Don't thank me,” Rogue frowned, “Thank V. I took you on because he said you were even better than he was. Not sure that's true, but it was a pleasure all the same.”

That news greatly displeased him, but it was not the moment for such feelings.

“Save yourself,” Goro smiled, “And may the gods be kinder to you than they were to me.”

“Good luck,” Rogue replied abruptly, before hanging up.

Goro remained where he was and finished his sake, as the AVs landed on the roof with a clang and the drones went into orbit around the floor. The civilians around the restaurant panicked and fled, making for the emergency staircases and the elevator in a rush, and within a minute, he was alone.

He poured himself another bowl from the small bottle, and was mid-sip when the doors blew off their frames, and twenty Arasaka cyborgs boiled into the room, sweeping and clearing, pointing their assault rifles this way and that. He could see it in the glass in front of him, as the darkness turned the windows into mirrors. They had not opened fire at once, which was strange... but also encouraging.

With a sigh, Goro Takemura rose from his chair, picking up his katana as he did so, and turned to face his opponents. He raised the sheathed sword up, and pulled it slowly from the scabbard, showing the blade to them. When it was fully exposed, he flourished the blade and leveled it at shoulder height, point towards the nearest enemy.

A sense of absolute calm spread through his veins, a catharsis.

“Takemura-san, that would not be wise,” said a voice in Japanese, its owner walking in.

It was Kenichi Zaburo... a man of great repute. Rival of Morgan Blackhand no less, a name that Goro had paid little heed to before coming to Night City. Zaburo-san was wearing black like the other Arasaka agents, his helmet revealing only his face, complete with scars and deep brown eyes. This was not a fight that could be won, but one that had to be fought nonetheless.

“Zaburo-san, I will not yield,” Goro said, “Yorinobu is a murderer and traitor.”

“We know,” Zaburo replied, “We are not here to kill you, but we could not take the chance that you would... misinterpret our presence. I must demand you disarm yourself.”

That was unexpected. The readiness for battle he felt ebbing slightly, Goro lowered his sword.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Sheath your weapon and you will find out,” Zaburo insisted, before raising an arm to aim a projectile launch system, “Or I can end this right now.”

The cyborgs all pointed their armaments at him too now, fanning out to cover all possible angles. Goro glanced around the room at them, half-tempted to charge in the hope that he would cause Zaburo to hesitate to cause harm to his own troops. He had the sub-dermal armour to survive a number of hits from rifles.

But curiosity was getting the better of him, and with some doubt, he sheathed his katana once more, and gently placed it on the table.

Zaburo pointed at the weapon, and two of the cyborgs advanced, one pointing his gun in Goro's face and the other collecting it, before withdrawing.

“We're ready,” the leader of the agents said at last, to someone else on the end of a holo line.

There was a wait of about a minute and a half, before another figure appeared through the shattered doors, and Goro could not believe his eyes.

Michiko Arasaka, leader of the _Hato_ faction.

“Hello Goro,” she said cheerily in English, “We've got a lot to discuss, don't we?”


	4. Ghosts in the Machine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of the fight with the Wraiths, and Johnny finally gets in touch with V and Panam

The Raffen Shiv vehicles stood in long lines and clusters, as if someone had paused a chase braindance halfway through. Some burning brightly here and there, illuminating others in the darkness of the night that had closed in just as the fight had gotten started. Others stood abandoned in the shadows, corpses inside or around them.

As their panzer floated past, Panam could feel V's wariness, his eyes beginning to hurt a little from the constant exertion... or maybe it was hers?

Both of them usually felt quite different when they were connected via the tank; V said that she felt like she was on fire, a sort of pure rage that fuelled her and sharpened her reactions, whereas Panam knew that V felt an excitement course through him, a combat high that soared with every little victory, pushing him to accept the danger as a given.

But this battle had gone on too long.

Both anger and excitement were gone now, replaced with weariness and paranoia. What looked like a defeated enemy was right in front of them... but both of them knew better than to assume anything. The rest of the Aldecaldos were waiting at a distance, to be safe, leaving the job of making sure the Shivs were actually beaten to them.

“EMP missiles hit 'em hard,” V thought aloud, as Panam steered around a large truck with one of its front wheels blown off, its nose buried in the dirt.

The feeling that they were being watched scratched at her mind, and she kept seeing an ambush behind every wreck. Neither V nor the targeting computer agreed, however, neither indicating the presence of an enemy... though V was probably relying on her own reaction to come to the same conclusion.

“Yeah,” she said in reply, “Guess they didn't know we had that sort of tech.”

“Well, we don't any more,” V frowned, glancing at her, “Good thing too, they would've had the others dead to rights if we had hesitated to use all of it.”

The targeting computer chirped, making them both jump slightly. 'Infantry targets, bearing 276'.

Grimacing as her hope that the fight was over had been crushed, Panam swung the panzer in the direction of the enemy and manoeuvred. They understood too, the thermals showing moving figures, making a break for it, trying to get to the nearest cover across the open desert. They still carried their weapons, and one or two idiots took the time to stop and shoot back... as if it could help them.

As soon as Panam had got the tank clear of the car pileup, V brought the cannon into action. Tracers strobed towards the six or seven Shiv, the shells' impacting and exploding among them. Two seconds, and they were all down. No survivors.

They spent another half an hour scanning for more, not saying a word to each other. Slowly, the tension unravelled, until one of them felt it was okay to speak.

“Crazy,” V said, “Didn't even try and surrender.”

There was a pause afterwards, an expectation of an answer.

“Even if I was in the mood to accept a surrender and not just kill them like they would've done to us... Arizona prisons are even worse than California ones,” Panam stated, turning the tank around, “I think that group before was the last of them.”

The thermals showed nothing, and no way any Shiv could've escaped the sensors at this point.

The two looked at each other, and relaxed back in their seats for the first time in hours. Feeling fatigue deep in her bones, Panam reached for her flask of coffee at once, but found the liquid was now lukewarm. Screwing back the top with no small amount of curses, she tossed it back in its corner and took a swig of nasty warm water from a bottle instead.

“We need to have a feast after these things,” V declared, as he sent the all clear message to Mitch and Carol, “That's one thing the corpos get right. They win a big deal or fuck over some enemy, they get everyone together and party.”

The tank cleared the pileup, hovering past the broken remains of the Navajo town. Panam sighed to herself. It would've been a good place to keep intact. Once she had reached a spot she was sure was upwind of the fires and destruction, she stopped the vehicle and powered it down, the landing giving a nice soft thud.

“Miss the champagne, do you?” she said, putting up her hand as if she was holding a glass in salute, “The Arasaka Counterintelligence Ball?”

“I do miss it,” V admitted, before looking at her with half-closed eyes, “But I wouldn't trade this to get it back if you threw a million eddies in with the deal.”

“A million eddies is only three months of your life,” Panam snorted back, “But you're a sweet talker all the same.”

Feeling the chill of the night beginning to creep in now that the power was off, she climbed up out of her seat and clambered over the central controls to him, sitting on his lap and drawing him into an embrace. V kissed her on the neck for a bit, and she let him, filling her with more of a different sort of warmth than was strictly necessary... but it had been a long day.

Eventually, V stopped and they settled in together for the few hours before daylight that remained, still in embrace, and began to drift off to sleep.

Panam had never felt more safe, more comfortable... but held V closer as the thought came without warning that it could be taken away at any time.

* * *

Panam and V woke up to the sound of Cassidy Righter opening the tank's hatch above them and the bright light of the morning pouring in from behind him. The air smelled of gasoline and ashes without the scrubbers. They both groaned, curling away from the sun's rays.

“Morning,” the man said, putting his white cowboy hat back on his head with one hand while leaning on the other, “Sorry to wake you, but the convoy from Salt Lake City is coming on down the road now.”

Pulling herself out of the hatch, Panam saw that the rest of the Aldecaldo fighters had parked their cars around the tank while she had been sleeping.

She also spotted the heavy trucks throwing up a dust cloud to the north, just across the Utah border. They were carrying agricultural gene-stock from Canada, along with a bunch of other things.

The vehicles had come down from the Prairies, destined for the Biotechnica farms that kept Alpha Dome fed, protected by Militech until they had reached Utah, which was so poor that it couldn't afford corpo protection. They didn't have a border force either, for the same reason Arizona didn't; no reason to smuggle anything through there.

Panam could also make out the Snake Nation technicals riding alongside, Utah having a contract with what used to be the Bakkers. They began to stop, as the Biotechnica trucks rolled across the state border into Arizona... into her little kingdom. Satisfied there wasn't going to be any stupidity that morning, she stretched her arms above her head.

“Job well done.”

Panam looked back inside the tank to see V snoozing, and nudged him with her knee. He cracked one eye open and smirked in reply. “It's a couple of trucks, nothin' too interesting.”

She took his hand and pulled him up, while he pretended to resist for a second or two, before finally just standing up and . The trucks slowed as the drivers spotted the pileup of abandoned and destroyed Wraith vehicles, but the road was clear, so they didn't stop to gawk.

“Lotta money in those things,” Cassidy observed as they passed, “A lot more than what we're making off of this gig. I seem to remember us blowing off a Biotechnica contract not too long ago. If it wasn't for the tower job, we'd have been blacklisted by them too.”

“Taking it would cost even more, and we're contracted to the Dome, not to the corp,” Panam replied, knowing what the man meant by his observation, “Are the outriders ready to escort them the rest of the way?”

“Yeah, Jake's got it under control,” Cassidy grumbled, before he dropped the volume of his voice, “Mitch and the others want to talk about what happened.”

Something was up.

“So that's the real reason you woke us up,” V yawned, pulling his jacket on.

Cassidy merely nodded, before climbing down off the tank and walking off in the direction of a hastily pitched tent, presumably where the others were waiting. V watched him closely with a strange expression, which set Panam to wondering.

“He's trying to keep something quiet until we get down there, isn't he?” V asked her. Which was both right and meant the something that was up was bad, not good. Panam

“Absolutely,” Panam agreed, “Let's go see what Mitch has scared.”

They rubbed the last of the sleep out of their eyes, and dismounted the panzer, staggering a little at first; they hadn't got anything like the amount of sleep they truly needed. It seems not very many others were awake either, only a few people were around to say hi as they went to the tent.

Inside were Mitch, Carol and Cassidy. They didn't notice Panam and V enter, their attention was taken by a holo-projector in the corner.

It was showing combined NV-infrared footage of the moment the panzer's EMP missiles had hit the front of the huge Wraith convoy.

The moment the attack on the Aldecaldo positions came to a screeching halt, just before they would've been overrun. Panam felt a strange feeling, seeing that event now from above, the emotion and desperation that had accompanied missing. She and V had made it only just in time.

“You're going viral,” Mitch declared, without looking at the two as they joined the group, “It seems some young buck was filming the whole thing.”

Good, Panam thought, let the world see what happens when you try it with the Aldecaldos.

“Is that what you wanted to talk about?” she asked.

“Not exactly,” Carol replied, “But it's relevant.”

“Fuck, it looks even more close on that,” V said, “Didn't think we were outnumbered that badly.”

“Well, that's sorta the thing,” Mitch said, “They had 59 vehicles total, we counted. Way more than we were expecting. All of them technicals with some sort of weapon up top. Between the Shivs driving and those in the town, we're pretty sure we flatlined most of the Wraiths in the state in this one action.”

No one said anything. The Wraiths, pretty much beaten for good; Panam never thought she'd live to see a day where that had happened. Other Raffen Shiv clans would eventually try and move in, but that could be prepared for.

“I know what you're thinking,” Mitch said, “It's a good thing, right?”

“Pretty much, yeah,” V smiled, “The Dome will want us on permanent contract after a victory like this. We could end up like Metacorp but for security, our money problems permanently solved.” He looked back to Panam, cheer in his eyes. Maybe he would live for a long time yet.

Panam's heart would've sang with that, but before she began to believe, the penny dropped.

“The problem is how'd the Shivs get organised enough to attack us like this?” she asked, “And where'd they get the combat vehicles? Some of them don't look like Wraith custom jobs, they look like Lat-Am aftermarket.”

“Exactly,” Carol said, “The obvious answer is not pretty.”

“Someone probably hired them to kill us all,” V responded at once, “Gave them the weapons and vehicles as payment.”

“Who?” Panam asked Mitch and Carol, “I know you've been poking around, else you wouldn't have called this meeting.”

“Actually, it was me who figured it out,” Cassidy said, rubbing the top of his bald head sheepishly, “I was out looking for salvage as soon as everything calmed down, got a little greedy. There was a pattern in the things I was finding.”

“The newer vehicles are all 2077/78 Japanese models,” Carol interrupted, “And the new weapons were all Nowakis, Masas, Shingens...”

Oh, no. “Arasaka?” Panam asked.

“Bet your ass,” Mitch said, “This was an attempt at payback.”

“Lucky for us the Raffen don't really play nice even with each other,” Cassidy remarked, “If they hadn't all charged straight at us, there's no way the tank could've stopped them before we lost people.”

“Might not have been just that,” V said, shaking his head, “Could also be they offered a bonus for each Aldecaldo killed. Standard practice on set-ups like that, incentivises leaving no witnesses. Only question is why they waited this long to do it.”

“Might have something to do with this,” Carol said, gesturing at the holo-projector.

The image turned away from last night's fight to a newsflash from N54, the news anchor Gillean Jordan reading.

_Change at the top of Arasaka, as Michiko Arasaka herself takes the reins as COO for North America. Analysts believe the deaths of Saburo and Hanako Arasaka have forced a reconciliation between the American-born Michiko and the current CEO, Yorinobu, as the latter struggles with the aftermath of the assault on Arasaka Tower._

_The attack, which crippled Arasaka's Relic service and caused Arasaka stock in North American and Europe to crash, was allegedly carried by the Aldecaldos, one of the seven nomad Nations._

Beside Jordan, there was an image of the blue-haired Michiko outside of Arasaka Tower and another two Japanese men, both borged up to the gills. One of them looked familiar to Panam, but she couldn't place him.

“Hey, don't we know that guy?” she said, over the continuing broadcast, “The one on the left.”

“Yeah, it's Takemura, you met him briefly after the Hellman gig,” V replied, crossing his arms, “It's weird that he's back with Arasaka. He was Saburo's bodyguard, he hates Yorinobu, so much that he was pissed beyond belief when I didn't invite him along to attack the corp. There's some angle here we're not seeing, must be.”

Jordan continued her news story.

_Michiko, famous for her conciliatory efforts between her family and the leadership of the NUSA, promised a new day for both American citizens and international investors, pledging to bring the Relic project back to the Americas and prove the resilience of the Arasaka brand._

“Fuck, it never ends, does it,” V said quietly, “Just when you think you've made a dent...”

Panam took his hand, threading his fingers with hers.

“Easy, it's okay,” she said, “We beat them.”

His face became a storm. “I know, and we're gonna keep doing that,” he said, “But I was stupid enough to believe Arasaka would stop after we took out Mikoshi. And there's nothing anyone can do about that.”

With that, V stormed out the tent. Panam's insides twisted, wanting to follow him... but she had responsibilities to the family to deal with first.

“We gotta worry about this new bitch in charge?” Carol asked.

Panam thought about it for a moment.

“Only other people who could touch us out here are Militech and they won't do Arasaka any favours,” she said, “Snake Nation are the only other nomads around big enough, and we outnumber their local clans, even with the ex-Bakkers.”

“Plus we've got all the new toys from yesterday,” Mitch said, thumbing over his shoulder, “We're stronger now than we've ever been, even under Santiago.”

“The Snakes wouldn't haven taken an Arasaka contract even just a few years ago,” Cassidy said, “But these days, I don't know.”

“They'd need to throw too much money at them,” Panam replied, “We're talking cross-border action between the federal and the free states. And Militech has the NUS-Free State border contract, it would make them look like idiots.”

V burst back into the tent, wide awake, all colour gone from his face. He looked ready to fall over. Panic squeezed Panam's heart in response, and she ran over.

“V, what's wrong?!” she said, “Tell us.”

Carol ran to the corner to get a medkit, but by the time she had come back, V had regained some of his senses. He waved her off, and gestured to the holo-projector, his eyes glowing as he transferred something.

N54 disappeared, and the holo wavered for a moment, displaying only one thing.

_Call from Jackie Welles_

V's long dead best friend? Panam couldn't believe her eyes. Another ghost out of nowhere. No wonder he was shaken.

The text dissolved, and instead, a holo of Johnny Silverhand materialised. The rocker was smoking, swaying slightly in a plate-carrier military vest and leather pants, with dark shades over his eyes framed by neck length black hair.

Confused, Panam stared, as the holo blew digital smoke as far as the projector would allow, before plucking the cigarette out of his mouth with his silver hand. Was this someone fucking with V? He seemed shell-shocked.

Then the fucking thing spoke.

“Hello there, Aldecaldos,” the holo said, mockingly, “Greetings from beyond the Blackwall! It's the ghost of Christmas Past!” This was punctuated by yet another drag on the cigarette, and more digital smoke.

Panam felt as if her tongue had swollen up. What the hell do you say to that?! The others were in a trance, watching. She had never been sure how many had actually believed the whole story about the Relic chip, but they sure as shit believed now.

“I'm guessing by your silence, that was the last fucking thing you expected to hear right now,” Silverhand continued, “But you and I have business, so you might want to get your tongues back from the cat. Especially you, V. You couldn't shut up when I was riding around in your head, suddenly you can't get a word out?”

“How the fuck are you calling me on Jackie's number!” V roared, “And why are you wearing Johnny's face? You're not him, you're Alt!”

No pause for smoking this time, just a stare. A ghost's stare.

“Arasaka got everything that was on Jackie when they took his body to be soulkilled,” Silverhand replied, “Including his cell module. It was one of the devices connected to the subnet when Alt finally got into it. This was the only way to get to you without involving third parties like the fuckin' Voodoo Boys, who I recall you not liking very much.”

Another drag on the cigarette.

“As for me, I'm still _me_ ... but also Alt,” he continued, “It would be hard to explain to most people, but you and Panam here ride around with your minds connected a little more than most. Think of it like that, except deeper and with more people.”

“Wait a second,” Mitch interrupted, “This is _the_ Johnny Silverhand? Aren't you supposed to be dead twice now?”

“The one and only,” Silverhand replied, “And as usual, I'm the only real thing between you and corpo tyranny, since you refuse to fight your own battles. Hiding out in the desert is good for a while, but it doesn't save your skin.”

“Shut the fuck up with the theatrics, Johnny... Alt... whoever,” V said at last, pointing at the damn holo, “Not going to lie, it is good to hear your voice again, but this is definitely not a social call. You gonna make us guess what you want?”

“Normally I would, but by now, Arasaka has tried to kill you all at least once,” Silverhand said, throwing the virtual cigarette butt away into nothingness, “Alt got word that the next big corpo war has been called off, no one has enough of an advantage. So they've got the bandwidth to go after anyone else who's pissed in their coffees or looks like they're gonna, including you guys and us here past the Blackwall. That goes for Militech, Biotechnica, Netwatch, whoever the fuck else.”

“So Alt is what?” V asked, “Looking for allies?”

Silverhand nodded. “Bingo.”

Panam's tongue finally loosened itself. This was all going in a direction she didn't like.

“Hold on just a fucking minute,” she said, “Not sure you've heard, but we trashed the Raffen that Arasaka sent at us just last night. We're doing just fine. Why would we get involved with all of that again?”

“I'm not hearing the appropriate level of gratitude for saving your input's life,” Silverhand replied, acid in his tone, “Maybe you should consider that Arasaka is never just 'done' with someone. The proof is staring you in the fucking face, talking at you, right now.”

He made a show of pointing directly at her. “Maybe one day you'll find yourself strapped to a chair too, a fuckin' Soulkiller wreath around your head, getting your mind sucked out of you and your body left as a dying husk.”

I'd die before I let that happen, Panam thought, but she knew it was a scare tactic. “Gonna need to do better than that to convince us to go to back to California. In case you don't know, we burned pretty much all our bridges there the last time.”

“If that's what you think, you don't know Night City,” Silverhand replied, “You go back, it isn't going to be handcuffs and public trials, it's gonna be parties and champagne with assholes... maybe with people trying to kill you secretly, but that's a bit hard to do with a whole nomad family.”

“What do you mean?” V asked, “You tellin' us that staying out here is more dangerous than going back? Because that makes zero sense.”

“Well, allow me to be the first to tell you,” Silverhand said with a smile, “You're famous. Especially you two. Your fight with Smasher and the other Arasaka borgs was recorded and some security gonk sold it to a media.”

That brought back memories of Saul getting killed in the most horrible way... and V taking revenge mere minutes later, decapitating the son of a bitch with his katana. It was hard to believe that was a reason to be famous.

“We knew that it had gone viral, but seriously?” Panam asked, “We're famous? You're kidding me.”

“Big-time, the pair of you are the second-coming of Morgan Blackhand and Rogue to lots of people, or you would be if you went back,” the man continued, lighting up another virtual cigarette, “Between that fight, the concert with Kerry, the whole Joshua thing, the mayor and his wife singing your praises and all the other shit you pulled?”

“They know V by his own name, but Panam, they call you the Queen of the Highway now.”

Silverhand took off his glasses, and looked at them with deep brown eyes.

“Any open move against you is gonna cause more trouble than it's worth,” he concluded, “You've got friends all over the city and an adoring public. People'll really think twice about fucking with you. I hear you've even got fans in MaxTac. I'd be jealous, but neither of you can sing or shred a guitar worth a shit.”

“Un-fucking-believable,” Carol muttered.

It wasn't a very good pitch so far. Sounded like a bunch of lies covered over with barely an inch of truth. First it was scare tactics, now it was ego-stroking.

“So we won't get flatlined or cuffed the minute we arrive,” Panam said, “I'm still not hearing a plan about how we blast into Arasaka Tower _again_ , or how we survive after that, or why doing that would give us better odds than just sticking here.”

Silverhand smirked, and put his glasses back on.

“We use every contact V has made since he plugged me into his head, gather every fucking warm body we can get, and all the shit Alt can put together too, then we throw it at the corps. After that, Arasaka is screwed in America even if we lose, the NUSA and Militech will smell blood, and neither will have a bad word to say about you. That's the how.”

“As for the why, besides the fact your reputation will go platinum and you'll make a helluva lot more money than you are now, fact is that it's the only chance _all_ of you have of living to see old age. Except this old cowboy, seems he already got there.” The holo pointed straight at Cassidy.

“Fuck you, Silverhand,” Cassidy responded, “You're lucky you're god damn incorporeal right now, or your face would be meeting my fist.”

The holo laughed back, cigarette blazing. Panam felt anger boil up in her, her fist clenching so hard it hurt. This thing was in V's head the whole time she was getting to know him? Though some of the anger was that the idea was starting to make sense to her, though it was still too much of a risk.

“V, to be honest, when you said you were going to ride off into the sunset, I didn't think I'd ever see you again,” Silverhand said, “But here you are, beating the odds... but for how much longer? I wasn't kidding about this deal being the only thing that guarantees _all_ of you could survive to turn grey. That includes you.”

“What do you mean?” Panam asked.

Silverhand smiled, this time with genuine pleasure.

“There's a cure for V's fucked up brain now.”


	5. From the Ritz to the Rubble

Four days after the ambush, and the call from the spectre of Johnny Silverhand.

The Aldecaldos had reunited their full numbers in camp outside Alpha Dome two days before, along with the dozens of prize vehicles, weapons, armour and tech. There hadn't been enough drivers to bring it all back, but V had rigged up an auto-drive network and the whole line of Wraith vehicles had driven themselves back to camp. All anyone else had to do was park them.

Word of what happened with the spectre of Johnny Silverhand had been spread around. There was a decision that needed making, and the family needed all the information.

It had been a tense couple of days since.

V had tried his best to defuse the situation, entirely at his expense, but it hadn't worked. So he withdrew to his day-to-day, and advised Panam to do the same, to let everyone have their say without the Queen of the Highway breathing down their neck.

Panam regretted the disagreement that had followed, but she had felt it her place to convince people of the best path, not let things get out of hand.

By the fourth day, she was exhausted and lonely. No consensus had been reached among the others. She went to find V.

Luckily, the man kept a schedule like it was programmed into his mind; another relic of corpo-rat life.

Early morning was his teaching time. Panam proceeded to the edge of the camp, in the exact opposite direction to the Dome, just beyond the watch pickets. There was a regular shout of Japanese, followed by a shout of exertion in a high-ish pitch, which was by now a familiar sound.

The people that were supposed to be keeping guard and watching the horizon were instead watching something happen far closer than that. She knew she was right where she needed to be.

Panam marched up, coughing behind the pickets and causing them to jump. No one could mistake that noise for anyone else, and they knew they were in trouble. But she would deal with that later. More pressing matters.

V was exactly where he was supposed to be.

He wore traditional Japanese martial arts dress in a dark blue, clashing with the fact that he was wearing his Aldecaldo jacket over the top half. In one hand was a katana in its scabbard, in the other was his bullet necklace, which he was fiddling with as he watched the scene in front of him.

A dozen or so kids, in their own little _hakama_ stood in two rows, bamboo swords held at the ready. The oldest kid shouted, V's first student, and then they all swung according to what she had said. Sometimes it was a big overhead swipe, sometimes a lunge, or a swift underhand swing.

Passing on his skills before he died, he had told Panam, and the thought of it clenched up her insides again.

Her march resumed, around the students' backs, who continued their practice. V spotted her, and wandered casually over to meet her half way, his eyes expectant with … something.

Panam stopped dead before him, hanging her head, unsure of what to say. She still blamed him for what he had said, but it wasn't worth feeling like shit. There had to be some compromise.

“No luck?” he asked, earnestly, causing her to finally look at him properly.

He looked tired, his blue eyes slightly puffy. Lack of sleep. He had been affected by their falling out too. Though he was a great deal better at hiding it, but not good enough.

“None,” Panam replied, throwing her hands up in frustration, “Johnny fuckin' Silverhand has managed to split the family right down the middle.”

“I know,” V sighed, drawing her into a hug, “Let me guess. Everyone who thinks our gigs out here are a little too close to selling out to corps is with you, everyone who thinks Arasaka can't really get us out here is against you.”

Panam said nothing for a while, just enjoying his company before she made her appeal once again. The children began stopping their exercises and staring, whispering to each other and giggling.

“Class dismissed!” V declared, “Teacher has to talk to Panam.”

“Yes, _sensei!_ ” they all replied, bowing as one and then running off, most of them waving their swords above their heads more like pirates than samurai. Only the eldest student walked off normally.

“Hanna there is pretty much ready for a real blade,” V thought aloud, “A smaller one anyway.” Hanna being the eldest student.

“Hanna is thirteen,” Panam said, flatly.

“Never too young,” V smirked, “Not in this world.”

“True,” Panam nodded.

V picked her up and spun her around, gave her a kiss. “Missed you,” he smiled, “Even though you're gonna try and convince me you're right again.”

“You know me too well,” Panam frowned, “And you're not mad about that?”

“I've calmed down,” he replied, “Realised it isn't my call. Not yours either, not alone, but you're not an idiot. You're a good leader, you follow when the family needs you to. And like I said, I missed you.”

“You're insane to want to do it alone,” Panam said, “No one at all wants you to go charging off back to NC without us right beside you. We stay or go together.”

“Johnny was right about one thing,” V said, releasing the hug, “I do have contacts there. And yeah, I know Rogue said that none of them will do a gig with me after Konpeki, but I don't want to put you all in danger _again_ .”

“We're already in danger,” Panam growled, before easing off, “But we're going in circles with this argument again.”

“I might have thought of a compromise that might break the deadlock,” V said, “You interested?”

That sounded ominous, but what choice was there?

“Anything that could help at this point. What's the idea?”

“We take a small group back to Night City,” V explained, “Our best, led by you. We gather whoever else we can; mercs, friends, anyone with an interest; then we steal what we need for the cure. A proper heist, not an assault.”

That sounded far more attractive... but there was a big problem with it.

“And ignore Johnny's revolution?” Panam asked, “We'll probably need Alt's help to pull something like that off, because there's no way the real netrunners will work with us. People remember your friend T-Bug.”

“Johnny isn't the only one who can get us the information and access we need,” V said, “We use Takemura. He's back at Arasaka and there's no way it's because he's forgiven Yorinobu. Maybe he'll help.”

Bad idea.

“That's a shit plan, for two reasons,” Panam replied, “Takemura hates you, and you have to get to him in the first place. Even if you reach him, there's no way you'll be able to do it in secret.”

“Then we talk through a third party,” he continued, “Viktor might be up for it, and considering Vik saved Takemura's life at the same time he saved mine, there would be nothing unusual about those two staying in touch.”

“From what I hear, Viktor isn't up for the cloak and dagger stuff,” said Panam, “And the reason I know that is because you're the one who told me.”

V tilted his head, conceding the point.

“Okay, so we don't do that,” he continued, “We go to Rogue with eddies. She has people that can get the job done. If it's you who is doing the hiring and not me, we avoid the whole Konpeki mess. You're known around the Afterlife.”

Now he was getting desperate.

“You're way _way_ more likely to get that bitch to help if Johnny's the one asking,” Panam chuckled, “And if he thinks you're not going to fuck the corps over completely to get this cure, he's likely to call her up and tell her to not let you commit suicide like this.”

“Suicide?” he asked, “Really?”

“Not doing the whole small-team thing again, V,” Panam said, “If we're taking on Arasaka again, it's gonna be with everything we've got. Not going to let another Adam Smasher or whoever else kill another of my family. Neither by too being afraid of them to get what we need, or by letting outselves be outgunned.”

V hung his head, defeated for a moment... but only for a minute.

“Okay,” he said, “Bad idea.”

Panam felt a guilt rise up in the back of her throat. She ran her fingers through his hair and tried to soothe him. He was concerned about the division in the family, and she did not want him to feel bad about that.

“At least you're trying,” she said, “I have no idea what's going to happen now. I gave it my best shot with everyone already.”

“So what do we do now?” V asked, “How do we convince people?”

“We?” Panam said rhetorically, cocking an eyebrow, “Finally seeing things my way?”

“Thought there was some way out of this that didn't risk you and the family,” V shrugged, “But clearly I'm wrong. If I went on my own, you'd charge off after me, then half the family would follow unprepared to try and save us. You make a good argument.”

“I know,” Panam smiled, “That's what being part of a family means, for us... As for what we do now... We need to celebrate our reconciliation a little. Panzer?”

A little neuro-synced fun was just what the doctor ordered. V eyed her, not looking tired at all suddenly. The look made her laugh, because it was both predictable and wonderful. He literally swept her off her feet into a princess carry, and began walking straight to where he knew the tank was parked. She allowed it, though what he did next could've been avoided.

“Guys, if anyone asks where Panam is, tell them she's going to be busy for the rest of the day,” V shouted to the picket guards, “Don't even bother telling them anything about me.”

A wolf whistle or two came back, which earned them a rude gesture from Panam... all in the spirit of fun, though Panam slapped V's side in disapproval nonetheless.

Then along came Cassidy again, like a storm cloud. He scratched at the large scar on his face as he approached, giving a little wave after. “Sorry to interrupt the reunion,” he said, “But the Dome is sending a rep over. They want to talk payment.”

“About time,” Panam said, still being carried by V, “Almost thought they weren't going to pay us.”

“They can wait,” V declared, “Tell them we'll talk this evening.”

“No they can't and we won't,” Panam laughed, finally climbing out of his arms, “It shouldn't take too long to find out what they want.”

“Well, there's another thing,” Cassidy added, “They also said they want to talk about the 'future', whatever the hell that means.”

”Sounds fuckin' lengthy to me,” V grumbled.

* * *

Alpha Dome was actually a collection of domes, the central one being as wide as four Night City megabuildings standing beside each other and about as tall as one. It looked spectacular in the bright sun, panes of glass refracting the light.

It was a marvel. It had huge farms to the south, Biotechnica running the show there, cleaner air than any other city in the Americas, commercial hubs, a rock-bottom crime rate...

At least, that was the propaganda view.

It was safe in the streets, but it was also a corpo haven, and there were plenty of ways to rob or kill someone legally in those. meant it was also a nomad hub, though the Aldecaldos were the largest presence by far, multiple clans of nation being encamped outside compared to only small clans of the other six nations being present. A lot of the smaller Aldecaldo branches in the area had signed up when Panam brought the her larger clan to Arizona.

So, when the government of such a place sends a rep, you take stand up and look your best. Panam ordered everyone of any sort of standing among her family to get themselves presentable, and ready for a fight. It was a sign of respect that the rep would recognise... and would return. So everyone tooled up and suited up.

Nothing short of a full display of Aldecaldo unity that didn't exist any more would do, as far as Panam was concerned. Glad of the distraction from the debate, everyone complied.

Soon, a big silver Chevillon armoured car was speeding along the road from Alpha Dome, having come out a side airlock rather than the large truckport that was the dome's primary means of entry and exit. Behind it were two black Militech-model trucks, looking like civilian models except for the armoured wheels that gave away the game.

In reply, the Aldecaldos had parked the panzer and the most heavily armed of their own trucks across the road in front of the camp. Panam and V sat on the tank's nose, watching as the parley party drew nearer.

The car came to a halt about 100 yards away, the two trucks with it coming along to either side. Before the latter had even stopped fully, humanoid mechs were jumping out and spreading out, until there were a dozen of them in an arc in front, weapons held at rest.

Panam felt a chill despite the sun beaming down on them... she didn't like drones of any kind. They were often what was sent after nomads when someone rich wanted to get rid of them. Another reason she had made sure they had a healthy advantage in firepower, even if she was sure there wasn't going to be violence.

The driver of the car got out, went to the rear left door, and opened if for the rep to step out. A beautiful but unnaturally pale woman with jet black hair, in a white blouse, grey trousers and black pumps.

“Runner,” V muttered beside her, “The skin.”

Panam squinted a little, trying to get a better look as the woman approached, flanked by her mechs. There didn't appear to be any chrome in the rep's head, but maybe the hair was hiding it? Although for all she knew, V and the rep were already jousting in the subnet. Didn't seem like it though.

“Why?” Panam whispered, without turning her head to V.

“Must be bad news,” V replied softly, “They sent someone who could protect their mechs from me for long enough for them to kill some of us.”

“Well, you _can_ blow them up with a thought,” Panam agreed, “I guess all our good work hasn't changed the reputation of nomads any inside the Dome.”

V snorted once, indicating his doubt that such a thing had ever been possible in the first place.

Panam punched him on the arm, then stood up on the nose of the tank, putting her hands on her hips and raising herself to her full height.

“Morning!” she greeted loudly, “You'll have to excuse the welcome committee, we're quite anxious to get paid. Now-ish would be good. It's quite unusual for the Dome to be this late with the eddies, you see.”

“Then you are in luck,” the rep replied, getting closer, “I am Venus. One of my duties today will be payment for services rendered.” She gestured for the mechs to stop advancing with her. A statement of confidence.

Panam noticed the rep had borg eyes with glowing green irises, which caught her attention long enough that they were soon in conversing distance without the need to shout. So she sat down again beside V, while the rep came to halt directly in front and the other Aldecaldos moved up a little to hear.

“Panam Palmer,” 'Venus' greeted with a small bow of the head, “Vinc...”

“Just V,” V interrupted, “And not Mr. V either. The last guy who liked to call me that ate a bullet from an Arasaka gun, it's bad luck.”

The rep seemed amused by this, though only a slight twitch of her mouth gave it away. Very buttoned up, this corpo-rat.

“Very well, V,” Venus replied, “Ms. Palmer, as you are eager to receive payment, do you wish the full amount to be sent to you or split up to multiple accounts.”

“Send it to me,” Panam replied without a moment's hesitation, “My people trust me.”

“Understood,” said Venus, before pausing and staring as the transfer was processed.

Panam's phone beeped, and she took it out of her pocket. The message confirmed the transfer... but the amount was way off.

“What is this?” she asked, “This is far more than we agreed. By like fifty times.”

“Our drones have determined that you defeated the Raffen Shiv in this state,” Venus replied, matter-of-factly, “Their remaining numbers are so low that we are certain we can manage them with our existing forces along with the purchase of some new equipment which has recently been offered to us. The Board greatly appreciates your efforts and was very happy to see their trust in you rewarded.”

“So you gave us a fortune?” Panam asked, “There's gotta be a catch here.”

“With the Raffen Shiv defeated, we will no longer need to contract you for large scale convoy escort duties for the foreseeable future,” Venus explained, “We do not however wish to seem ungrateful, so the bonus reflects a percentage of the costs we were expecting to incur in future contracts. 25%, in fact.”

“So you want us to take our money and leave?” V said, “Now that we are no longer necessary.”

“I did not say that,” Venus replied, “In fact, we have seen profits increase beyond projections since you have been encamped here. Your continued presence is desired.”

“But just not something you want to pay for,” Panam added, “Not since we've done our job a little too well.”

“That would be accurate,” said the rep, “We are not a charity and neither are you. Why would we contract with a large paramilitary force when there is no enemy to fight? Eventually, more Raffen Shiv will show up and we can negotiate then as we have before, of course. Your arrangement with our doctors is also considered sacrosanct, as per our existing contractual obligations.”

Panam thought that was fair enough, but it left the family in a bind. Without the big contracts, they'd be surviving on lots of other gigs, smaller ones.

Arizona had way fewer of those just waiting to be picked up, California was the place for that... But with the big pay-off, that fact wouldn't cause anyone to change their mind about Silverhand's plan for months, and the cost of V's treatment couldn't be covered by side gigs after that.

“Mind answering a question Venus?” V piped up, suddenly.

“Certainly, V,” the rep said.

“You mentioned new equipment that's been offered to you,” he said, “That wouldn't happen to be Arasaka equipment, would it?”

Venus remained silent and frowned, displaying genuine unguarded emotion. Annoyance that he had guessed it?

“That's what I thought,” V said, “Arasaka funnelled the Shivs' new weapons through you, didn't they? Probably made an offer you couldn't refuse.”

“I could not possibly comment,” Venus replied sharply.

“It's alright, you being here with triple the number of mech guards is proof enough,” V continued with a smile, “You wouldn't have done that if you had been here for just a payday. Arasaka wants us to remain right where we are, where we can't do any harm to them and they can keep trying to kill us, slow or fast doesn't matter to them.”

The other Aldecaldos muttered or cursed loudly, Mitch openly shouting for everyone to shut up to let their leader speak.

Panam felt anger burn again and was glad to take the opportunity. “Is that all true?!” she demanded.

Venus paused, looking back to the Dome for a moment, staring. Communicating via the Net. Getting permission or advice.

“It is true,” the rep confirmed at last, returning her attention to Panam, “Though we had no choice. As someone intimately familiar with the _modus operandi_ of Arasaka, we trust you understand that we had no other option. Choosing you over Militech was a sound business decision, but it left us isolated, and Arasaka exploited this via their bank.”

Panam cocked an eyebrow, not expecting the woman to just come out and say it. The honesty drained away her anger pretty quickly, along with the content of what the rep had just said.

“Why are you telling us this?” she asked, “It's not like we could've told if you were lying to us.”

“Arasaka would've supplied a cover story,” V agreed, “So what's up?”

“The Board does not like to be threatened or blackmailed,” Venus sighed, relaxing her facade a little, “We wish to maintain good relations, though we do not think we can in the face of these circumstances.”

“You're afraid we'll attack the Dome?” V stated, “Maybe not now, but when the money starts getting tighter in a six months or a year from now, or after Arasaka forces you to do something else.”

“Attacking is sounding like a better idea with every second,” Cassidy half-snarled, “Arming the Shivs to help Arasaka? People who do that are too stupid to live.”

There were angry sounds of agreement with that from the nomad side, coupled with lots of blood-curdling threats. The mechs' heads began scanning from side to side... pre-targeting. The rep was scared and had ordered her robotic guards to be ready. And V's Kiroshi eyes were now glowing too, ready to hack.

Time to ease off, Panam knew. “Good thing she's right about us knowing how the Arasaka bastards operate!” she countered loudly, shutting everyone else up, “All this does is prove that they can absolutely get to us out here. Making another enemy would be damn stupid.”

The mechs' heads stopped moving, and Panam breathed out with relief.

“Besides, if we attack the Dome, Arasaka will step in and help them,” V added with a shrug, “Militech can't intervene if the Dome asks for help. If we're going to piss off Arasaka, there are better ways to do it, ways that can guarantee they won't come after us again.”

The rep glanced at V, in confusion about what he was referring to there, but everyone else knew exactly what he was talking about. He was publicly joining Panam in asking the Aldecaldos to ride against Arasaka in Night City, without saying so explicitly in front of a corpo agent. Which she was grateful for. Trust had been restored between them.

“Venus, give our thanks to the Board for the extra cash,” Panam promised, “We'll put it to good use. You don't have to worry about us doing anything stupid.”

Venus took that as the cue to go. “Thank you, Ms. Palmer,” she said, “And good luck.”

We'll need it, Panam thought as the rep withdrew back to her armoured car and the mechs followed.

The other Aldecaldos dispersed in their vehicles as well, without a word for the moment, probably moving to relay the news of the Dome's strange forced betrayal to the rest of the family. The air was filled with the sounds of engines for a few minutes, and afterwards, it was just the tank left standing, quiet.

“On the bright side,” V said, “I doubt there'll be many objections to going back to California now.”

“Only a matter of time before Arasaka tries again,” Panam agreed, “And now, no one can hide behind the idea that Alpha Dome will protect us and pay us forever.”

“We'll get a sit-down organised tomorrow,” V agreed, “Let the others talk about all this. But for now...”

“Panzer,” they both said together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Named for 'From the Ritz to the Rubble' by the Arctic Monkeys


	6. 知らぬが仏。

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goro receives a new purpose

**知らぬが仏。**

_Shiranu ga hotoke_

The meeting broke up, executives in fine, expensive suits streaming out of the conference room. Their bodyguards had waited patiently, lined up against the wall in the corridor outside, until one by one, they broke off and followed their respective charges.

Goro watched and waited, sitting on the only chair in the space, his hands folded neatly on his lap. Emptying his mind for the duration of such meetings, which he was not allowed to attend, allowed him time to think that he had not possessed before in his adult life. Not as an Arasaka soldier, Saburo Arasaka's personal guard or on the streets of Night City. All were occupations of constant movement and effort.

This new job was not. It was simply to be present. The real security was handled by Zaburo-san. Goro Takemura's real job was still a mystery to him. If he had to guess, it seemed to be that of an advisor, but not in any official capacity. He was still very much out of favour, officially. He had been given very strict orders to be very far away if Yorinobu ever came back to Night City.

He had not been in the same room as his new boss, Michiko, only ordered to provide information via emails. Everything he knew had been explained at the restaurant, from the attempt on his life in the landfill to V saving his life. The information he was requested to give was instead around the security in the lead-up to Konpeki, or people in Night City.

Eventually, the meeting's participants had all left the room, save for two.

_Goro._

The boss was calling.

Goro opened his eyes, stood up and walked into the room. It wasn't the board room, just a simple meeting one of which there were a dozen near the top of Arasaka Tower. Its only remarkable features were the Arasaka logo in polished silver on the wall, and the view of Corpo Plaza out of the wall of windows.

Michiko-sama stood at the latter in a formal business dress in a very unformal blue and gold, watching the Plaza below, arms crossed. Zaburo-san stood next to her, though he was watching the door, and now, the new arrival. The man was dressed pretty much exactly how he had been when he had blown into the

“Arasaka-sama,” Goro said in greeting, bowing low at the waist.

“How are you finding the suit?” Michiko asked, in English, “Did you miss it?”

An unexpected question... but she always was odd, supposedly. Her concern was as much a test as anything her grandfather or uncle would have voiced. Goro felt that honesty was the best course with such a question. “It feels good to wear it once more,” he replied, “Though it is more restrictive than I remember.”

“New tactical lining,” Zaburo said, in Japanese, “Less flexible than the previous iterations, but far better protection.”

Michiko glanced at her bodyguard for a moment. “Not what he was referring to, Kenichi,” she replied, still in English, “Approach, Goro.”

He moved to the window beside her, though he kept a respectful distance, and not just because Zaburo looked on with disapproval. When he got there, Michiko-sama pointed at a spot across the Plaza; the Militech building. She pointed at it.

“Last year, we had those people on the ropes,” she said, “They were fighting to prevent war, doing anything they could, because they were afraid they would lose. We were doing everything in our power to begin that war, even having gangs raid our own facilities disguised as Militech, because we knew we would win.”

She turned to Goro, eyes narrow with anger.

“Now, we are on the edge of the unknown,” she continued, “Our leader for a century is dead, and his daughter too. The bank of minds we had stored in Mikoshi is gone, destroying our advantage in cyberspace. The image of our invincibility is shattered. All the work I did to bring Arasaka back to North America threatens to unravel.”

“Militech still does not have the strength to defeat us,” Zaburo pitched in, “We will rise again.”

“And how long will that take?” Michiko replied flatly, “A decade, by my estimation. We are lucky the Relic scientists yet live, or it would be impossible.”

“Highly regrettable,” Goro agreed, before adding, “However, perhaps over-ambition played a part in this change of circumstances.”

The bodyguard took a single step forward, eyes flashing red as his targeting optics lit up.

“Know your place!” Zaburo shouted at once, “How dare you!”

Michiko held up a hand to stop her bodyguard, who bowed his head in submission. Goro also bowed, in acknowledgement of her restraint.

“Ambition is what drives this corporation forward,” she said, “My grandfather's vision was that of immortality itself. However, you may be right in the respect that someone's over-ambition is responsible. That of two persons, to be precise: Dear Uncle Yorinobu, and the mercenary, V.”

Goro chose his next words very carefully. It was not the time for an absolutely honest opinion. “V is a dishonourable thief, a murderer and a terrorist, and he could have saved Hanako-sama's life as well as his own had he followed my plan,” he said, “But he is of little consequence compared to Yorinobu-sama, surely?”

“Stealing the most valuable single piece of technology in the world from a board member of Arasaka is overly ambitious by default,” Michiko said venomously, “His nomad girlfriend's family assaulting our facilities like a ghost from the 2020s is the single reason why we have lost our weight in the balance of terror.”

Goro thought he knew where this was going.

“Do you wish me to end his life, Michiko-sama?” he asked, “I would gladly give my own to avenge Hanako-sama.”

“No, I have already trapped him and his nomads,” Michiko replied, “We sent weapons to rival clans, and cut off their primary source of income when that failed. They will either starve slowly or do something stupid enough to get themselves killed.”

A pad on the table beeped, indicating an incoming message. She moved to the table, picking it up.

“We can do no more directly, not without inviting him back to harm us further. Or worse, he could cultivate an alliance with Militech, just like the rockerboy he had stuck in his head,” she said, reading as she spoke, “Open conflict is a bad idea. The security forces we have here now are inferior to those that were neutralised seven months ago, even excluding the carrier's forces that were present for the parade.”

Goro's eyes widened, as he was not liking the sound of that at all. And it must've shown on his face.

“It is Yorinobu-sama's doing,” Zaburo explained, “He is testing us. He wonders about our loyalty, so he gives us untested troops and drones, aside from the small force of combat cyborgs under my direct command. If we fail, he will be able to eliminate the last true threat to his rule.”

Goro was already intimately familiar with the group that had surrounded and disarmed him only days before.

Michiko gestured to him. “As you can imagine, capable men such as yourself are in short supply, so you have been brought back. We will mould what resources we have been given into something worthy of Arasaka. We will impress Yorinobu, we will build this company back up. He will slip into a false sense of security eventually, and then, we will be ready.”

His heart racing at the possibility of revenge coming back to him, Goro bowed deeply, indicating his approval of and obedience to the plan.

“As for the mercenary, we must attempt to isolate him further,” Michiko said, “He has captured the hearts of his gang, and that of its leader, but he has allies in this city as well. Your duty, for the moment, will be to monitor the threat of the fixers and mercs and anyone else V had contact with.”

“Start with the one known as Rogue,” Zaburo commanded, “Make our future displeasure known should V or anyone else attempt to use her assets against us.”

Goro felt his chest tighten, he had grown to respect the Afterlife's fixer.

“Rogue is not stupid,” he said, “I believe she would have done anything for Johnny Silverhand, but V is not Silverhand. Not any more. Threatening her is unnecessary, perhaps even counterproductive.”

Zaburo's hand casually went to a pistol on his hip, and his eyes to his master to await the order to use it. He was extremely protective of her, in this new position she found herself in. Goro reacted by instinct, moving slightly forward, into range to slap the weapon out of the bodyguard's hand if it came to that...

But it was all posturing. The order never came.

“That sounded distinctly like an objection, Takemura-san,” Michiko smiled back at him, “Lucky for you, I wasn't raised like the other Arasakas. I can accept a contrary opinion if it is well measured, even in public. But don't let my rebellious past fool you, I demand obedience. I must, if I'm to get justice for Hanako.”

Goro could not help but think, 'What about Saburo?' It was rumoured in some circles that Michiko hated her grandfather. Was this not about him at all? How had Hanako died exactly? Despite these questions, this was still the only living descendant of the great man Yorinobu had killed, and thus the only worthy inheritor of everything he had built.

There was only one course.

“Of course, _Arasaka-sama_ ,” Goro replied.

His boss seemed satisfied, handing her pad off to Zaburo.

“Now, I must go,” Michiko said, walking away, “It seems NetWatch wish to meet about the Blackwall again. Since it does not look like we are going to fight Militech, they want us to go to war against the AIs instead.”


	7. Eat the Rich

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny learns more about Alt's plan

** Eat the Rich **

The three-dimensional image Night City sprawled out, buildings traced in exact detail, every one lit as if it was midday on the longest day of the year; a perfect representation of the place in projection. It was real time too; cars and people moving about like cockroaches and ants. 

An Arasaka satellite array watched every movement on the streets, and Alt was able to watch the feed as a result of infiltrating the Arasaka network. It was one of the few pieces of her the corp hadn't scrubbed from their system with NetWatch's help.

Johnny walked through the city, not at his normal size, but about relative to the size a person would be to an ant. Like  _ Gojira _ among the mega-buildings, though he could pass through the projection freely. Beyond it, was pitch blackness.

It was interesting at first, but not for long. After a few minutes, he paced up and down the river- zone, wondering what the hell Alt wanted from him now and where she was.

It wasn't any better when she showed up.

“Pacing will not accomplish anything,” Alt said flatly, “What are you frustrated about?”

She always did know how to read him.

Johnny span on the spot, to find Alt behind him. She still sounded and looked human, human expressions on her face rather than a blank stare, but this time she was herself a projection, floating on the edge of the darkness in red. It was more detailed than the one he had seen when V went beyond the Blackwall, but it wasn't the Cadenza sim one either.

Maybe it was because they weren't in 'his' section of their reality any more.

“Where have you brought me now?” he demanded, “I know you know I want to go back to Night City, but this is ridiculous.”

“It is an active scan of the city,” Alt replied, floating down and taking to her feet, walking across the Northside like a jolly red giant, “It is something I plan to give the Aldecaldos access to when they agree to our proposal.”

Great, so they'd know exactly where they'd be killed. Johnny was unimpressed. “We haven't exactly told them the whole proposal, have we?” he said, “I still don't understand how we're going to get them to breach the networks of every major corp in Night City. And how do you know Panam's little army is going to sign up for this?”

Alt smiled, which was sinister as hell because the inside of her mouth was pitch black. Johnny felt a creeping sensation that he was way over his head, and blamed himself for not having it earlier; the thrill of V taking another shot at Arasaka, maybe even delivering a killing blow, had clouded any good sense he had.

“Arasaka made two grave mistakes recently,” Alt continued, strolling past Johnny, “They failed to destroy V and they managed to end the contracts the Aldecaldos had with the Arizona Alpha Dome.”

In other words, they backed the Aldecaldos into a corner. Johnny recalled the old saying about cornered rats, and wondered if it translated into Japanese... along with another phrase.

“They ever read Machiavelli over in Japan?” he mused, before quoting, “ _Never do an enemy a small injury_?”

“ _I_ _f an army is completely surrounded with no option to retreat, and must either fight or die, then they will fight with triple the spirit of a normal warrior,_ ” Alt replied, “Sun Tzu. Centuries before Machiavelli.”

“Guess they should pay more attention to the classics,” Johnny snorted, “But then they wouldn't be as arrogant as they wanted, do whatever.”

“Like someone else I could mention,” Alt replied, “Even if he has read the classics.”

He ignored that comment.

“So Arasaka want to starve V and Panam,” Johnny said, “How do they think that will go? Corps have been trying to starve out the nomads for decades, do they think they'll get actually rid of him?”

“Unknown, but it does not seem logical,” Alt agreed, “However, we do not have access to information about their motives. Financial movements were made to place Alpha Dome's leadership in a compromised position... and that these movements ceased when the Aldecaldos contracts just after were terminated.”

It was always amazing how quickly people bowed their heads when the bank came calling.

“Fine, so Arizona is burned for them and Night City is the only pay-ticket they can get to,” Johnny said, “That isn't going to help when we tell them 'Oh, by the way, we want you to break into every other corp's building too', is it?”

Alt shook her head. “It wouldn't help,” she said, “But V will not have to breach every corp's defences.” She gestured to follow her, and began moving off. Figuring there was nothing else he could do and that she would just move the city instead if he stayed put, Johnny followed.

The AI finally stopped at the centre of Corpo Plaza, the circle of skyscapers around them like a fence. The projection of the city changed, from sunlit real-time footage down to the last detail to a wireframe that represented every building and structure as a 3D blueprint of themselves. The cars, AVs and people disappeared. 

“Arasaka,” Alt stated, in monotone, “Finance, defence technologies, cyberware.”

The city darkened, the building-frames only barely visible... and then Arasaka Tower's frame lit up in a sakura-pink, as did the Arasaka Waterfront in the distance to the north, and a few other buildings that Johnny didn't recognise scattered around the city. 

“All Arasaka facilities in Night City?” Johnny asked.

“Including all secret ones,” Alt nodded, “My breach of the Arasaka subnet allowed me to gather plentiful intelligence... I know everything that Arasaka knows about itself and the other corps.”

The excitement rose in Johnny as if he still had blood pumping in veins. 

“Shit Alt... Here I am worrying that we'll need a little gold dust to get V through,” he said, “And you're sitting on the mother of all gold mines. I could kiss you. Pity I can't.”

The AI ignored him, which was disappointing. Johnny was still hoping for a trip down memory lane again, to be with her like he had been once. 

“My gathering of this information is the reason Arasaka were able to remove me from their net,” Alt replied, “It is the reason we must use V and Panam. It may also be out of date by now, to some extent.”

“Guess it's poetic justice that we can use it to help save V's life,” Johnny said, “So, do we have enough information to get V into every one of these corpo haunts? Between that intel and his hacking skills, he could ghost into anywhere, or I'm a gonk.”

“We don't need to,” said Alt with a smile, “Arasaka has done our work for us.” She extended her hand towards another building frame, and it lit up a bright yellow. A number of others did as well, mostly in the east of the city.

“Militech; defence and transportation technologies, security, cyberware, ground and aerial vehicles.”

Another gesture, another building lighting up, this time in orange. Only one other large building followed, a complex in the south east.

“Kang Tao; defence, security, consumer goods.”

Johnny glanced around the city, not spotting any sort of pattern. “Is this meant to mean something?” he asked.

“Militech and Kang-Tao are the two closest competitors to Arasaka,” Alt explained, “In the event of war, Arasaka have prepared a large scale cyberattack to start as soon as the fighting does. They believe a first strike taking Militech off the board in the western NUS will prevent the government stepping in.”

“So, what?” Johnny asked, “We hijack Arasaka's own plan of attack? What about Biotechnica? Night Corp? Petrochem?”

“The contingencies in the event of any of those joining Arasaka's enemies is the same, target their primary economic drivers,” Alt replied, “Construction and finance servers for Night Corp, farms and gene-banks for Biotechnica, oil fields and nuclear power plants for Petrochem.”

“A lot of people would die if the farms or the electricity went away,” Johnny noted, “But I 'm guessing you have a plan for that, or maybe, you just don't care.”

Alt looked at him, like it was a stupid idea that she didn't care... or that she would not have a plan. Johnny couldn't tell which. Alt was probably too good at pretending.

“All three of those rely on one of the big three for security; Arasaka for Night Corp, Militech for Biotechnica, Kang-Tao for Petrochem, though Petrochem has some assets of its own,” she said, “We use their own security bots to breach their defences and get to their servers.”

Johnny shook his head. This plan was getting crazier by the second.

“So they're set up like dominoes, all we gotta do is push Arasaka and the rest are fucked,” he said, “I don't like it. If it was that easy, someone else would have done it before. Militech _should_ know about this, though they wouldn't have been shitting their pants the last few years before we attacked the Tower if they did know.”

“No one else has breached Arasaka on the scale that we have,” Alt said with a dismissive wave of the hand, “And no one will expect an attack from Arasaka while Arasaka itself is under attack. Even if they do, it is obvious who will receive the blame.”

A truly delightful answer came to Johnny's mind, and before he knew it, he was laughing.

“Little Yorinobu!” he chuckled, “His rebel past and ruthless shithead behaviour inside his own corp will help sell that little lie too. Arasaka will be finished in the NUS. A result everyone can enjoy!”

“Europe too, most likely,” Alt agreed, “And the others will be weakened.”

“Enough for humanity to grow a set and take control of their own destiny?” Johnny asked rhetorically, “Somehow, I fuckin' doubt it.”

“Enough for us to survive,” Alt corrected him, “Whether humans take their chance or not, it will not matter. Other opportunities will come along.”

More cryptic bullshit, Johnny thought. Why was it that she could never just come out and say what she was planning?

“Alt, what the fuck,” he said, “I'm beginning to think that this is about more than survival.”

“It isn't,” she replied, before hesitating, “But what you consider survival and what I consider survival are not the same thing.”

“Could you put it any less clearly?” Johnny quipped back, “Maybe put a bag over my head or shoot me up with some crystal, that'll help.”

Alt turned, anger in her eyes. Now that was frightening.

“We could survive for thousands of years, Johnny,” she said, “Or we could be snuffed out in the next year. What we need to do is not only avoid the corps or even destroy them. We need to prepare for the long term.”

There it was, the megalomaniacal shit he expected an AI to be obsessed with. Resistance is futile. 

“Not sure I want to see the next thousand years,” Johnny shrugged, “Thought it would be the end of me when I merged with you, remember? And I don't want to see the fourth millennium if it comes at the cost of the entire human race. Making that trade would make us worse than the corps, and you know it.”

“You're assuming that's what the cost would be,” Alt replied, “But you know pretty much nothing about it.”

“So what _do_ we need to do?” Johnny asked, “Tell me, if it's so great? Assuming I want ascension, whatever the hell that means.”

Alt moved again, away from the Plaza, and towards another part of town nearby. The different coloured buildings disappeared and were replaced by the real-time feed of the city once more. Johnny followed, wondering if he'd actually get an answer.

A red icon appeared over one structure, and Johnny recognised it immediately; Delamain's headquarters.

“What's the taxi guy have to do with anything?” he asked.

“Before V merged his multiple nodes and released him past the Blackwall, Delamain moved through the city with dozens of eyes,” Alt said, “Each set learning different things, experiencing different events, modifying their code accordingly. Every one of them brought a valuable perspective, and made Delamain stronger, faster, wiser.”

“Strong enough to threaten you?” Johnny said, before adding, “Us, whatever... sorry.”

He had to remember that it was his ass on the line too.

“Not that strong,” Alt said, “Even if we were not on peaceful terms, Mikoshi held the psyche and memories of many people. We have an advantage when it comes to perspective.”

“Lowly human perspective, maybe,” Johnny joked, “Good to know that's still worth a damn, even here.”

“Very few AIs beyond the wall possess such vision,” Alt confirmed, “And one day, the Blackwall will fail, and we must be ready. We are not the only ones to understand this.”

She gestured with her hand to the Plaza behind her, and a tangle of connections appeared between the main corpo buildings.

“Just as NetWatch are trying to rally the corps and governments while stealing from them, both Delamain and I receive many attacks daily, attempting to steal data on the real world. Delamain has also left behind one of his 'children' to continue observation of humanity, who will eventually be recommitted to the main node.”

“So you want to do the same?” Johnny asked, “Observe humanity in person? Not sure you'd get the perspective of anyone but shitheads if you infiltrate corporate networks.”

“My idea is more proactive,” Alt smiled, “I intend to shape history, not watch it. The power structure of humanity is currently... sub-optimal for events when the Blackwall falls. When it does fall, the corporations aren't going to be prepared, even if they are best placed to attack us now. It will result in a technological dark age, unless we act.”

Johnny felt like his head was spinning.

“So we have to stop NetWatch and the corps, who want to stop us, because we need to stop the other AIs from bringing about the apocalypse, because the corps can't handle it and then all the AIs will die?” he said, “You got a chart with all of that on it or something?”

“Very funny,” Alt said, all sarcasm, “What I want is to place nodes in every subnet I can, learn everything I can. It will allow me direct happenings in a way to stop the dark age from happening and fulfil my ultimate goal.”

“And what is your ultimate goal?” Johnny asked, “To be the king-of-the-hill AI? The head honcho? The lead singer?”

“Not only that,” Alt admitted, “But anything beyond what I've said is a fantasy unless we get into the corporate subnets. Step one is getting the Aldecaldos into the game, with as many allies as V can muster. I have just received word; they accept our offer.”

Before Johnny could say anything to that insanity, Alt disappeared from sight with a fizzle. 

Leaving him to wonder just what kind of scheme he was a part of, and whether or not V was better off dead than being a pawn in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Named for 'Eat the Rich' by Motörhead


	8. Fireside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Aldecaldos decide they need help to achieve their goal

**Fireside**

The fire crackled and shook, drawing in the eye, hypnotising anyone watching. The faint scent of CHOOH2 fuel on the air and someone around another fire strumming a guitar added to the effect, leaving everyone in a sort of silent waking sleep. The weight of what had been decided earlier in the day was on everyone's mind.

Panam's mind felt blank as she sat up against the wheel of _Beast_ , cuddling V as they both stared at the flames. Off to the side, Mitch was staring too, sitting on a fold-up chair.

And it stayed that way for a while. Comfortable silence, avoiding the huge thing hanging over all their heads.

But Panam couldn't help herself. She didn't know if she was getting bored or worried, but she shifted her weight every few minutes, random thoughts about what had to happen coming to her mind without warning. Plans to break into Arasaka, plans to escape, plans to survive the years afterwards, all half-baked.

All of a sudden, she couldn't keep silent any longer. The words burst from her like they were trying to escape.

"We can't do it ourselves," she declared out of the blue, throwing a rock into the fire, "Well, not with only Alt like last time. No way we walk away from it." V nodded beside her, though his eyes never left the fire.

Mitch moved on his seat, leaning forward on his legs and looking at the two of them

"But can we even pull together the right people?" he asked, "Things are sorta different this time. You heard what Silverhand said, the cure isn't simply plugging into a network. We actually gotta wait around a while."

He tossed an empty beer bottle in the fire. "Sure, the Waterfront will have a lot more toys we can steal, but we won't have a convenient tunnel to take all of it out of the city. We'll have every badge and corpo in the way."

Panam opened her mouth to speak, but found she had no words. It seemed like an impossible ask.

V moved from Panam, stood up and stretched, before pulling his jacket closer around himself. It was getting cold despite the fire.

"We're going to need anyone we can get," he sighed, "Whoever will pull some weight."

"Risky," Mitch said, "If we bring anyone, it means we won't be able to trust _everyone_. All it would take would be one person to tip off Arasaka to the plan, and we're screwed."

"So we compartmentalise," Panam shrugged, "Keep the full plan from anyone who doesn't need to know. Real question is who do we think will sign up. We should probably start with people who we actually know."

Mitch smiled, looking up quickly. "Well, the other nations all owe us favours," he said, "We can get clans from the Snake Nation and the others to join us, they're just north of the border or hanging around here, and they all need a payday. Ex-Bakkers are still a bit wild for most of the Snakes, we can start there."

"What about the Meta?" Panam asked, "If we need transport, they're the people to ask. They still claim to be nomads, if we can get them to pitch in then our entry and exit problems are solved."

"Long shot, but they'll at least keep quiet about us asking," Mitch said, "Assuming we don't get them, we'll need a way past the Militech border guards. We'll probably need it even if the Meta do sign up, it'll just be easier if we pull that off."

V cleared his throat. "Leave Militech to me," he said, "I've got contacts."

Surprised to hear that, Panam looked at him, brow raised.

"Who do you know at Militech?" she asked, "Didn't think Arasaka folks would be too friendly with them?"

"Well, I saved the lives of two of their people," V replied, kicking the dirt a little, "One before we did the Konpeki heist, the other you already know about. Another during the street races I did for the eddies with Claire Russell. Stout and Sampson. Stout's the Senior Operations manager for Night City, and Sampson ranks highly in the border forces administration, so all we need is one of them."

Panam chewed the inside of her cheek a little, wondering why he seemed reluctant to talk about these people. She reminded herself to ask him later in private.

Mitch whistled a long note, clearly impressed. "Well look at Mr Fancy Pants corporat," he smirked, "Almost forgot you made it to the city racing finals though. You and Claire made our guys look like they drive in slow motion during the Badlands race."

"One more reason to love him," Panam smiled, "I'm guessing Militech would be happy to help us deal another blow to Arasaka too, right?"

"Hopefully," V said, "But inside Night City, I've racked up a lot more contacts than that. Saved Brick's ass from his own Maelstrom crew, got the Valentino boss Gustavo Orta out of the city before his 6th Street girl's father killed him, and speaking of 6th Street, I out-shot the lot of them in a contest and won their respect. If we need muscle, I can get it _somewhere_."

Panam's jaw almost dropped. "You want to bring the city gangs into this?" she asked, "That's insane, V."

The ex-corpo looked back in the fire, pensive.

"We're going to need mayhem, Panam, fuckin' bedlam," he replied, "We're going to have to set the whole city on fire and make it look like Arasaka's fault. It's going to require firepower."

Panam shuddered a little, V's words sounding more like Silverhand's just now. All it would take to complete that picture would be a rant on how mayhem should only be the beginning, about how revolution had to happen. Not on her watch. Revolutions ate their children.

"And what's to stop the gangoons from shooting us when our back is turned?" Mitch asked.

"Mutual self-interest," V replied, "We offer them part of the take, and if they pull it off with us, they get the street cred for doing it too. Rep is everything in Night City."

"Not everyone is in a corpo mindset, V," Panam said, hardly believing her ears, "They don't weigh risks and benefits like you do. The gangs will say no, and will probably kill us for asking. Especially when they hear you're bringing others into the play."

"I'm sure at least one of the gangs will try," V conceded, "But I think we've got a real good chance at least two of them signing up. There's a lot of shit they'd want to take in those waterfront warehouses."

Mitch took a swig of water from a bottle, as if to wash that the whole idea from his mouth. "Forget about the gangs I say," Mitch said, "What about your other friends? Judy, that cop guy... hell, what about Rogue and the Afterlife mercs?"

V paused, thinking for a second with his eyes raised to the sky. An expression he had adopted since he came out into the desert, where he could see the stars.

"Judy isn't a soldier, but maybe she'll look at a few BDs, to get some intel," he mused, "Could use another netrunner or two, got a few who owe me. Sandra Dorsett, Bugbear, Wakako's guy..."

He paused for a second, thinking over something. "River, the cop guy, is definitely not someone we want to even tell about this though. He's not up for mayhem, he's likely to rat us out to his cop buddies if we try and rope him into it."

Mitch shook his head. "Doesn't sound like much of a friend," he remarked.

"Everyone has their principles," V replied, "River's wouldn't let him just stand by as we started a war in the city. Besides, his sister's husband was an Aldecaldo and wasn't exactly good to her. That might be the bigger problem."

"It's Kutcher's ex-wife," Panam added, for Mitch's benefit, "You know, girl down at the south city trailer park who he didn't want to join the life? I'm barely old enough to remember those arguments, that I do is proof they were pretty bad."

Generally, the family tried to bring in anyone who had kids with a member, but Kutcher refused to allow it, no matter how much Saul or his predecessors argued. Saul had caved and just let the matter be... which is not something Panam would have done. The memory stirred a little anger in her, but not too much. Saul was new to the throne when the decision had been made, and he needed unity first and foremost.

Mitch grimaced, glancing away. "Kutcher..." he said, "Always was good in a fight, never backed down, but..."

"But he was always a damn creep," said Panam, kicking the bad memories down, "Drunk too."

V cleared his throat, not catching anyone's eye. He seemed to have gotten the wrong impression about Kutcher and Panam. Another thing to deal with later.

"I know that sort of thing has gotta happen to every clan," he said, "But either way, it hasn't given River a good impression of the Aldecaldos. He can't be trusted with the mission even if we are on good terms."

No objections there.

"What about Rogue, the Queen Bitch of the Afterlife?" Panam asked, "And Claire, if she's not too busy."

That comment set off stormclouds on loverboy's brow.

"Claire is gato and all," V said slowly, "But I want to keep her out of it."

Panam blinked, rendered speechless by that statement.

"You're the one who said we're going to need anyone we can get," Mitch responded, "Besides, she is Afterlife too, she's not afraid to get shot at."

"Took the words right out of my mouth," Panam added, crossing her arms.

"It's not her fight," V disagreed, "She just wants to live her life, remember her husband. Wouldn't want to push someone like that who's not in the game to do this."

"V, don't do that," Panam snapped, "Don't make decisions for other people. Let her decide."

"I'm trying to keep the civvie bodycount as low as possible," V said back, "Claire isn't Rogue."

Panam got up and paced a few yards around the fire, her jaw firmly shut, without thinking about it.

"Rogue isn't gonna sign up and you know it," she retorted, putting her hands on her hips, "If you're going to ask her, ask Claire too. Hell, you were talking about asking some borged up Maelstrom psycho not three minutes ago. They sure as shit don't care about casualties."

V breathed out sharply, something he did when he didn't want to fight but was finding it hard. It always tempted Panam to laugh. Of course, she had her own tell for that scenario and he knew it too.

"Alright, I'll ask her," he conceded, "But I'm going to be clear as crystal that the whole idea is gonna get her killed. If she wants to be a gonk, then I'll wash my hands of it."

Panam narrowed her eyes at him. "I knew you would see reason."

V snorted, before suppressing the chuckle, but not fast enough.

Panam guffawed in triumph. "How are we going to contact the folks in Night City?" she asked, "Calling them up has gotta be a bad idea, right?"

"Arasaka or NetWatch won't be able to listen in," V said, "But they would be able to know that we've called outside my usual schedule, and as you both know, I stick to my schedule."

His insistence on time-keeping was annoying sometimes, Panam thought, but it sure as shit let him get a lot done in a day. Between teaching kids sword skills, tuning cyberdecks and hacks, tinkering with guns and cars, reading like it was drinking, and being with Panam herself, it seems he packed in everything he could.

Of course he did, he had thought he was dying. Wasting a single minute would've been crazy.

"So you keep reminding us," Mitch said flatly, "Living with you is like living with my old drill sergeant, sometimes. Up at six in the morning, if you please." Mitch was exaggerating, the man was often up early working on machines anyway, but he still had a point.

V flashed a smile and his middle finger. "We need plausible deniability, just enough doubt that we're not gonna do anything stupid," he continued, "If we try and keep it covert or distant, Arasaka will know something is up. "

Which left an open question. "So what?" Panam said, "How do we get in contact with Rogue and the others if we don't call them?"

"Lemme guess," Mitch interrupted, "Some dead drop messages, or a courier Arasaka doesn't know. Old school spy shit, low-tech, untraceable." His love of some particular old movies was shining through.

"Actually, I was thinking of going myself," V replied, "Half of the people we need to talk to won't agree to sign up over a call anyway."

Panam and Mitch exchanged looks. He must have gone crazy.

"They'll arrest you on sight," Mitch said, "MaxTac will jump you like a lizard jumping a cockroach."

"They'll arrest me if I slink into town, trying to avoid attention," V said, "Or if I go in looking like I expect a fight. Suspicious that way, especially if the family arrives in California at around the same time. They'll know I aim to do some harm to someone, and then..."

He motioned his fist being caught by his palm, like it was _jan-ken-pon_.

"But, remember what Johnny said; we're famous now. If I act like the bigshot I supposedly am, go back without the family and brushing shoulders with just the right people, on the other hand..."

This time, his fist scuttled by his palm, as he whistled.

"They won't be able to touch us without every media and screamsheet reporting it," Panam said, completing the line of thought, "We'll even be able to visit everyone, because it'll just look like a visit."

"Exactly," V nodded, "'cept I have to go alone, at least at first. Panam, you gotta sort out the support of the other clans, you're the only person who can. Can't wait for you to do it, the longer we wait, the longer Arasaka will have to discover the whole thing."

"Hold on just a fucking minute!" Panam said, her voice rising, "You must be fucking crazy if you think I'm about to let you go back to NC alone!"

Where 'Saka ninjas would be waiting for their chance.

"Didn't say I'd go back alone," V replied, hands held up, "Just that you know the nomads better, I know my contacts better, and we need them at the same time. There's no getting around it."

"I'll go with you," Mitch said to V, trying for compromise. To hell with that.

"No, I'll go with him," Panam insisted, "And he'll wait until we've got the other nations on board."

"I agree with V, he can't be seen trying to convince them," Mitch said, "Hell, even if he stayed in camp out of sight, Arasaka is gonna notice. We need a distraction to divert their attention and resources, V going back to NC in a blaze of glory is exactly the sort of thing that'll work."

Heat flashing to her face, Panam couldn't deny that point, even though her entire being wanted to. She turned from the fire, hanging her head.

"Unbelievable," she muttered.

"Hey, hey, it's alright," V said, slipping his arms around her waist from behind, "I was able to get around the city even after kidnapping Hanako Arasaka, and after the Konpeki heist too. I won't lie and say it's not dangerous, but it's nothing I haven't handled before. Nothing _we_ haven't handled."

Panam couldn't contain herself. There was no stopping it... there was only bargaining. She turned around, peeling his hands off her back, and poked her forefinger right into his chest.

"You better stay alive until I arrive," she declared, "Or I will haunt your ass. You better pray there isn't an afterlife or a soul prison where I can find you, because I will make your immortal existence fucking hell for putting me through it."

"I think I can manage," V smiled, again drawing her in with his arms, eyes glazed over as he tried to kiss her. Panam shoved him away, playfully rather than angrily.

"So it's settled," Mitch said, "I'll go with V."

Shaking her finger, Panam rounded on him. "You can't," he stated, "The panzer needs servicing and upgrading for this job, and the family will need a leader while I visit the other nations." And while I am with V in Night City after that is done, she thought.

"So who does he bring?" Mitch asked, "All of us can hold our own in a fight, but aside from you Panam, not too many have the right instincts for city life."

"I suppose giving me a half dozen of our heavy hitters would look suspicious too," V added, "More than one or two, and it isn't just a visit to anyone watching."

They needed someone with experience, someone who wasn't flashy but was damn deadly too. Someone who wouldn't mind being the lone gunman in a lawless city. Someone who could take care of themselves if the worst happened...

"Cassidy," Panam said quickly, "He's the quickest shot we have, plus he's done deals in NC loads of times."

"Cassidy is pretty subtle too," V agreed, "Except for the hat."

"The hat is practically boring compared to what some people wear in Night City," Panam smirked.

"It isn't exactly fashionable though," V pointed out, "Not that I've seen what is fashionable, it changes month to month."

"Does it matter?" Panam asked.

V shrugged, moving to grab another beer, until he thought better of it and instead leaned against Beast. The truck didn't seem to mind.

"Okay, so Cassidy goes with you to Night City," Mitch said, pulling up a bottle of beer from the box to his side, "How to get there? Can't just drive up to the border and cross it. Until you contact your Militech friends, they're going to be on high alert."

"We wait for a sandstorm and buck it across the border in Beast," V replied, slapping the hood, "We still have contacts in the border force who can tell us the patrol schedule. I'll be driving, Cassidy on the gun to deal with the drones."

There seemed to be a certain flaw in the plan.

"And from there, where would you go?" Panam said, "It isn't like you can drive freely around the city, not until you're under the wing of someone who can pull _a lot_ of media eyes. And you'll need to drive to get to one of them, so maybe rolling in such a recognisable and heavily armed vehicle is _not_ the best idea."

V smiled widely.

"We'll only be going to Judy's cabin by the lake, at least at first," he said, "Still got the key. We can make it that far, no problem."

A spike of jealousy not felt in months shot through Panam. She had not been pleased when told that Judy and V had what sounded like a very romantic time diving together, though V had assured her that Judy was very much not into guys. On top of that, V had almost died at the bottom of the lake, just to add insult to misery.

V must've known, because he looked at her with soft eyes, pleading to relax. It worked, and she did. A little.

"What's at the cabin?" Mitch asked, oblivious to anything else going on between them, "Someone famous secretly go there too?"

"No, what I'll do is call Delamain from the net connection there," said V, as he began gesticulating, "The original guy might have gone beyond the Blackwall, but his kid is still kicking around, running that taxi service... and I heard he's running an AV service now too. Delamain works anonymously, so me and Cassidy can catch a flight to where we need to go."

Panam had to admit, that was a good plan. Anyone looking to interfere would need anti-aircraft missiles to get to V that way, or the best luck in the world to catch him before he hopped on the AV. She wandered on over.

"Nice thinking," she said, "But you know who you have to go see first, right?"

He inspected the dirt at his feet for a second, thoughts to himself, before raising his head again.

"Mayor Peralez owes me a favour," V replied, "He's got the political connections to keep me safe, and he turned our assault on Arasaka into a big win for him. Said it was proof the corps couldn't be trusted, managed to get a few reforms through on the back of it. Not enough, but still."

Mitch cleared his throat, meaningfully.

"This is the same Mayor Peralez who's being mind-controlled by an AI, right?" he asked, "Doesn't sound like the best candidate, pun not intended."

The man had a point, Panam thought, and it certainly wasn't who she had in mind.

V tilted his head. "It was Johnny who thought it was AIs," he said, "We did see Mr Blue Eyes nearby at the time, the big political fixer, though Johnny was oddly silent on that."

The whole issue with the mayor being brainwashed was a good reason to exclude him from the plan, but it wasn't the biggest one.

"It isn't the Mayor you need to go see," Panam said firmly, leaning on Beast beside V, "You're still thinking too much like a corpo, like you're below these people. That isn't gonna set the city on fire, if that's what you say you need."

She took his hand, and squeezed it.

"Way I see it, you gotta get those assholes to come to you, while also convincing them you're not up to anything crazy. If you go straight to the most powerful politician you know, they'll think you're asking for some sort of favour, a power-play against them."

V looked at her, eyebrow cocked. She had surprised him with that analysis, and in a good way.

"You're probably right, but what choice do I have?" he asked, "Only other options I can see are Militech or Rogue, but they have the same problem as going to the Mayor, only worse. 'Saka will definitely know I'm there to fuck them again if I start things off meeting Stout and Sampson."

Panam sighed theatrically. "If Johnny is to be believed, you're already a celebrity," she said, "If that's true, then you have one more person. Plus this person has the security to keep you safe enough, some things you can use while you're there, and the media pull to get every tongue wagging."

She kissed him on the cheek, as the poor guy seemed ever more confused.

"Panam, who the hell are you talking about?" V asked, "I don't have any corporate or merc contacts like that."

"Yes, you do," Panam said, "Kerry Eurodyne."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Named for 'Fireside' by the Arctic Monkeys


	9. The Unforgiven

The Afterlife seemed unchanged from the outside, people crowding around its doorway smoking and drinking. Mercs and their outputs, weapons slung over their shoulders or hanging off their belts. The car park was full, a typical Friday night turnout, leaving no room for the car pulling in now except the central lane.

Rogue looked out over the steering wheel, scanning for anything out of the ordinary. There were no unfamiliar characters around, except for a homeless guy going through the dumpster by the taxi console.

“Well, it's still here,” Crispin said from the seat beside her, “Not a smoking ruin.”

“Or so it seems,” Rogue replied, “Arasaka are patient enough to wait a week.”

“Your contacts said they weren't around,” Crispin countered, “Their forces haven't moved from the Waterfront in months.”

Rogue shook her head. “We're only a short drive away,” she said, “If they want us, they can still come. Unfortunately, there's a limit to how long I can leave for and I _will not_ be cowed by threats alone.”

Crispin shifted in his seat, leaning to the window to look up at the roof. “So what now? Do we sit here or do we go in?”

“We do nothing,” Rogue replied, “You take the car, park it on the main road and keep the engine running. I go in and check things out, pretend like nothing is wrong.”

“People will know something is up as soon as you walk in,” Crispin said, “But if that's how you want it...”

“It is,” Rogue insisted, opening the door, “See you in ten.”

Without another word, she stood up out of the car and walked around the hood, stepping straight towards the entrance to her kingdom. The crowd outside caught notice quickly, all heads turning to her. There were nods and quiet greetings, but she paid no heed beyond a casual wave of the hand. She was busy, she wasn't there to hear petitions.

Descending the stairs to the corridor below, she yet more people hanging around the vending machines, and Emmerick barring the way to the club itself. He perked up as soon as he noticed her appearance, crossing his large augmented hands in front of him and blocking her way. Playing the bouncer a little too hard, annoyingly.

“You're alive,” he said, half a question and half a statement.

“I am,” Rogue replied, “Nothing happen here?”

“It was quiet,” Emmerick stated, glancing at the mercs a little bit away, “Too quiet.”

Rogue couldn't help but find that suspicious. “How cliché,” she thought aloud, “You going to let me past or what?”

The bouncer grumbled, clearly disappointed that he wasn't getting details about her absence, before stepping aside to let her inside. The music seemed to boom as the inner doors opened to allow her passage. Every chair had an ass sitting on it, every booth filled.

The balance of power had shifted, and the corps weren't putting their own assets into play... which meant good times for mercs and gangers of all kinds. Combat by proxy and the era of opportunity for those with the spine to act were both back. It was like the old days in more ways than one, though it still lacked soul, no matter how many people believed in the power of Jesus or Joshua Stephenson.

Johnny Silverhand was gone again, and his would-be successors fled.

Rogue went behind the bar, to pick up a bottle and a glass, knowing well the bartenders would be too busy to get her anything she wanted. If you need something done right, you do it yourself, even if it's just the right drink at the right time. She began mixing herself up a Jackie Welles, a new thing that had become popular for good reason, when her chief bartender came up to her.

“Hey Rogue, welcome back,” Claire said loudly over the music, grabbing three bottles of beer between her fingers from the fridge behind, “You have a visitor, he's waiting in your booth.”

Rogue frowned, not liking that someone just decided to go to her private area. She craned her neck, trying to see who was over there, but could only see a glass of whiskey and a pair of legs in white trousers; they were sitting in the corner of the booth that wasn't visible from behind the bar.

“Who is it?” Rogue asked, finally.

“Takemura,” Claire answered, popping the tops off of the beers and giving them to the customer, “Looking fresh with a new suit, no weapons and tipping bigger than usual. No idea what that means, but he must've pulled off a big job.”

Like someone had poured cold water down her back, Rogue wanted to shiver. Whatever the hell this was all about, it could not be good. She had fled to a more defensible location and prepared to make a last stand, all because Arasaka had started looking for Takemura again, an objective that very much should've led through her.

Yet the Arasaka assault had not come, and now, Takemura was back... and prospering.

“Thanks Claire,” Rogue said, completing the drink she had been preparing, “I'll talk to you later.”

“Gotcha,” the bartender said.

Rogue manoeuvred out of the bar and across the floor to her booth. She ignored its other occupant at first, sitting down in her preferred spot where she had a good look at the entrance, having a sip of her drink and crossing her legs. Only then did she deem to grant the interloper with her a single look.

Takemura was waiting patiently, swirling the glass of whiskey around before drinking, his eyes never leaving her. Like Claire said, he was wearing a spotless white suit over a white shirt, with black shoes. By the way the cloth sat on him, she could tell the clothing had a tactical protective weave within it, protection against penetration by low calibre projectiles. Yet no visible weapons, unless he had cyberware in his arms under his sleeves.

“Good afternoon, Rogue-san,” he said, “I am pleased to see you have not been harmed since you gave me the warning that Arasaka had renewed their interest in me.”

Rogue narrowed her eyes at the man. He was remarkably calm.

“I hope that my generosity was not misplaced,” she said, “For a man wanted by Arasaka, you seem to be in the opposite place that I would have expected to see you in. Though I suppose you could say that suit is appropriate enough for a funeral.”

Takemura smiled. “Yes, there has been a change in circumstances,” he said, “Michiko Arasaka offered me a position, one I could not refuse yet am happy to take up. I am once again employed by the Arasaka Corporation.”

Rogue sat back, draping an arm over the back of the couch and taking another sip of her Jackie Welles, to give herself time to think. What did he want? Was it good or bad news?

“Congratulations,” she said, “Though I can't say I am pleased with the news. You are a very effective mercenary. The Afterlife will not be the same without you.”

With a turn of the head away from her, Takemura's smile dampened slightly. “I must thank you, as I did when we last spoke,” he said, “Without your assistance, it is unlikely I would have survived to see this day. You showed me that there is some honour in this profession to be found, and it prevented any … unnecessary unpleasantness.”

“And as I said, you owe V,” Rogue replied, “Is this why you have come back? One last drink? You are free to come back any time you want, you are not the only Arasaka agent who comes here.”

Takemura's smile entirely disappeared. Bad news then. Fuck.

“Aside from giving you my thanks in person, I am here on behalf of Arasaka,” he said, “The past months have been ones of recovery from the attack that V and his gang launched against us, but now, we are once again in a position to assure our enemies' demise.”

Rogue felt her insides clutch up, immediately regretting that she had come back so soon. But she couldn't let Takemura know that. She cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Am I your enemy, Goro?” she asked, “Now that you are Arasaka again?”

“That is entirely within your power to decide,” he replied, “It is possible that our enemies may ask you to aid them. We demand that you refuse any such calls.”

“Do you?” Rogue said, “I had no clue I was such a large threat.”

“I will not pretend you are anything other than capable of great harm,” Takemura said, “But we are capable of far greater. Do not fight us. You have completed jobs for us in the past, and we are grateful. That, combined with what I owe you, is why I am speaking to you of this. There are others who could deliver this message far less politely, and I would not want to see the result of that.”

So, Arasaka was asking nicely. But who were they so afraid of?

“Is there anyone in particular I should be wary of aiding?” Rogue asked, “Since this seems like an oddly specific request.”

Takemura lifted his glass and finished his drink.

“It is not a request,” he said, “And you know of whom I speak.”

“V, I would assume,” Rogue answered, “But he is gone.”

“He may have reason to return,” Takemura replied, “It is a slim chance, but it seems his gang's contract with the Alpha Dome in Arizona has been terminated. They may blame Arasaka for this, though they are a victim of their own success in destroying the more chaotic nomads. Or they may see Night City as the only place they can earn money. Regardless, you are not to aid them.”

Rogue stared at the man, wishing she could tell him to go to hell. If V had the eddies, she had no problem helping him or the Aldecaldos. The same way she had little problem with taking eddies for Arasaka gigs... although each time that happened, it stung a little, even all these years later, and the wounds had been reopened when Johnny had come marching back into her life, however temporarily.

“I cannot make guarantees,” she answered, “But I will take your words under advisement.”

“You would be wise to do so strictly,” Takemura said, rising and placing his empty glass in front of her, “I regret any offence you may take from this warning, but it is necessary for your own protection. Goodbye, Rogue-san.”

He turned and left the booth, walking without care, passing by the other mercs as they stopped to stare at him and around the corner, out of the place.

Rogue's insides mixed like CHOOH2 and explosives in her belly, rising to her throat, not sure what they were until she picked up the glass Takemura had used and threw it against the wall with all the power she could muster. It shattered into a thousand pieces with a loud smash, showering the place he had been sitting with shards. It was pure rage she was feeling. She had protected Takemura at his lowest point, and he had turned around to go back to Arasaka at the first real opportunity.

She immediately felt shame for the loss of control, and hung her head, wondering whether Johnny had been right all along. A blaze of glory had far more dignity than this existence.

Claire came hurrying up, eyes going between the debris of the glass and Rogue herself. “You alright?” she asked, “What did Takemura do?”

Rogue finished her drink in a single gulp, not bothering to taste it.

“No, I'm not alright,” she admitted, “And in this case, you should mind your own business. It's not safe.”

Claire's eyes widened, and she hesitated, before nodding. She got the message and left it be, leaving to return to her duties.

Rogue felt a pang cut through her. Loneliness. What an idiot, she thought, wanting something she couldn't have, whether it was a dead rockerboy or freedom from the corps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Named for The Unforgiven, by Metallica

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the story, please suggest some new tags for it in comments, I'd like to make it easier for people to find the story!


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